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THE STORY 



OF 



Jane Austen's Life 



BY 



OSCAR FAY ADAMS 

AUTHOR OF "THE PRESUMPTION OF SEX," "CHAPTERS FROM 
JANE AUSTEN." " POST-LAUREATE IDYLS," 



Nefo lEWtion, Mttstrattto 



BOSTON 
lee and shepard publishers 

io Milk Street 
1897 



1)EC 17 W* 



Copyright, 1891, by A. C. McClurg & Co. 
Copyright, 1896, by Lee and Shepard 

A II rights reserved. 



The Story of Jane Austen's Life 



mnujersttg l@ress 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 



Ka fjts jFrfento, 

Eben Howard Gay, 

The author affectionately dedicates these pages. 



PREFACE 



THE present volume, appearing so soon after 
* the lives of Miss Austen by Mrs. Maiden and 
Prof. Goldwin Smith, would have little excuse for 
existence if constructed on precisely the same 
lines as its predecessors. But Jane Austen the 
novelist is too well known to the literary world 
to need much more said concerning her; while 
Jane Austen the woman is, I am compelled to 
believe, still a stranger to most of those who 
read her books. To place her before the world 
as the winsome, delightful woman that she really 
was, and thus to dispel the unattractive, not to 
say forbidding, mental picture that so many have 
formed of her is the purpose of the chapters that 
follow. With what success the task here at- 
tempted has been achieved is for readers to 
determine. 

The summer of 1889 was spent by the writer 
in visiting all the localities once familiar to Jane 



2 PREFACE. 

Austen ; and the descriptions of Bath, Steventon, 
Chawton, and other places can therefore be said 
to have the merit of accuracy at least. It was 
originally designed to insert a number of views of 
localities mentioned ; but the difficulty of satis- 
factorily reproducing these reluctantly obliged the 
author to forego this intention. The work was 
begun and partly completed at Winchester, al- 
most in the shadow of its great cathedral; and 
the opening chapters were read and approved by 
one of Jane Austen's grandnephews, Reverend 
Edward Cracroft Lefroy, now, alas ! as these lines 
are written, just dead in the fulness of his powers 
as a poet, after a long illness. 

The writer has received much valued assistance 
from the Austen kindred and from others inter- 
ested in his work, and takes occasion here to 
express his obligations in this respect to Lord 
Brabourne ; Augustus Austen-Leigh, Provost of 
King's College, Cambridge University; Montagu 
G. Knight, Esq. of Chawton House, Alton, Hants ; 
and Reverend J. Morland Rice, of Bramber 
Rectory, Steyning, Sussex, — all grandnephews of 
Jane Austen. Also to the Very Reverend G. W. 
Kitchin, Dean of Winchester ; Thomas W. Shore, 
Esq., of Southampton, Hants ; R. E. Peach, Esq., 
of Bath ; Mrs. Harris, of Steventon Manor, Whit- 



PREFACE. 3 

church, Hants ; and Miss Charlotte M. Yonge, of 
Otterbourne, Hants. 

In May of the present year, a number of these 
chapters were read by the author to the late Hon. 
James Russell Lowell, at the latter's request, in the 
study at Elmwood ; and more than one friendly 
criticism then received has been heeded in the 
final revision. Mr. Lowell took a warm interest 
in the work ; and the author had hoped to have 
the happiness on one of these autumn days 
of placing the published book before him. But 
this was not to be ; for just as the first pages 
were going to press, the summons came, and 
under the trees of Elmwood their owner passed 
for the last time. 

Oscar Fay Adams. 

Felton Hall, 
Cambridge, Massachusetts, 
Oct 12, 1891. 



NOTE TO SECOND EDITION. 



IN this edition the author has followed out his 
original intention of inserting illustrations of 
scenes more or less closely connected with the life 
of Miss Austen ; and it is hoped that the volume 
will possess an added interest thereby. Several of 
the illustrations are taken from photographs made 
expressly for the work in the summer of 1889, and 
the letter of Miss Austen's, of which a fac-simile is 
presented, was given to the author for that purpose 
by the late. Lord Brabourne. The portrait of Rev. 
Edward Austen Leigh, her nephew and first biog- 
rapher, is from a photograph given by his son, 
A. Austen Leigh, M.A., the Provost of King's Col- 
lege, Cambridge. 

The Hermitage, 

Boston, Massachusetts, 
November 25, 1896. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Prelude 9 

II. Childhood at Steventon 16 

III. Life at Steventon ; First Visit to Bath ; 

Earliest Attempts at Writing ... 32 

IV. The Writing of " Pride and Prejudice," 

" Sense and Sensibility/' and " North- 
anger Abbey " 53 

V. Visit to Bath ; Removal to Bath ; " The 

Watsons ; " The Austens at Lyme . . 66 
VI. Death of Jane's Father; Lodgings in 
Bath; Jane Austen in Society; Visits 

in Kent 94 

VII. Removal to Southampton ; Life and So- 
ciety there 106 

VIII. Removal to Chawton ; Publication of 
" Sense and Sensibility,"." Pride and 
Prejudice," and "Mansfield Park" 144/ 
IX. Last Years at Chawton; "Emma;" 

" Persuasion " 184 

X. Last Illness and Death 206 

XI. Jane's Brothers and Sister 221 

XII. Character of Jane Austen shown in 

her Writings 229 

Appendix . . . 257 

Biography and Criticism of Jane Austen . . 259 
Index 267 



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Reduced Fac-simii.e of Miss Austen's Writing. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Page 

Portrait of Jane Austen Frontispiece 

Fac-simile Letter of Jane Austen .... 7 

Winchester Cathedral from the Southeast 10 

Old Manor at Steventon 17 

Steventon Church 18 

Portrait of Jane Austen at Fifteen ... 32 

Bath Abbey from the Northeast .... 67 

Number Four Sydney Place, Bath .... 84 

Views at Lyme Regis 91 

Pump Room Interior, Bath 98 

Old Wall at Southampton in 

Chawton Cottage, from the Road .... 145 

Rear of Chawton Cottage 155 

House on College Street, Winchester . . 208 

North Aisle of Winchester Cathedral . . 220 

Chawton House 230 

The Octagon, Assembly Rooms, Bath ... 235 

Portrait of Reverend J. E. Austen-Leigh . 257 



THE STORY 

OF 

JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE, 



PRELUDE. 



IT is late afternoon in Winchester. The shadows 
are gathering in the gloomy transepts of the 
cathedral and lengthening across the quiet green- 
sward of the Close. The great clock that over- 
hangs the High Street strikes six ; and a moment 
later the quarter chimes from the Guildhall send 
forth the slow music of their notes, and the hour 
is struck more slowly still. A pause, and then fol- 
low the four double quarter strokes, and the delib- 
erate, dignified hour bell of the cathedral sounds 
far up in the tower, that is now a golden grey in 
the rays of the western sun. A longer pause suc- 
ceeds, and then come the double quarter strokes 
from the belfry of the College of William of Wyke T 
ham, and the six meditative hour strokes afterward. 
Just in this same way may the hour have sounded 
in the ears of Jane Austen seventy- two years ago 



IO JANE AUSTEN'S LIEE. 

this 17th of July, 1889. It was the last hour the 
bells of the ancient city she had loved so much were 
ever to tell to her, the last which she was ever 
to heed, for a little later she had done with time. 

It was but a very small part of the world upon 
which she could look out that long-past July after- 
noon. In front was a narrow street along which the 
college boys were moving up and down at inter- 
vals like restless but irregular shuttles, disappearing 
and reappearing through the entrance to Com- 
moners' just at hand ; across the roadway a brick 
wall partly screening the narrow garden-plot of 
Dr. Gabell, the college head-master, behind which 
rose the high flint wall of the Close crowned with 
tufts of crimson flowers and waving streamers of 
dark ivy. Over this again were the grey tower and 
roof of the mighty cathedral, its south transept gable 
just seen above the green leafage of the Close. 
To the left the street view was bounded by the red 
brick houses of Kingsgate Street, into which it led ; 
but to the right the eye might follow the roadway 
past the stone bridge over one of the streams of 
the Itchen, that bubbled out beneath the low arch 
in the wall of Wolvesey Castle, till it turned a 
sharp corner round the wall of the garden of the 
college warden. A bit of the Hampshire downs, 
a shoulder of St. Giles's Hill, closed the prospect 
here. This was all that she could have seen, and 
very little it may appear ; but it was, nevertheless, a 
part of the scenery she had always known, and it 
was beneath the shadow of the majestic cathedral, 




w 



PRELUDE. n 

familiar to her from childhood, that she had come 
to die. It was not home, to be sure, but yet home 
was not far distant ; and at the least home faces 
were near her, and the sister whose love had been 
the most precious gift of a lifetime was to be with 
her so long as she could feel the touch of human 
affection. 

It had not been a long life that was so near its 
gentle ending on that summer evening, — a little 
less than forty-two years in all. Happy, cheerful, 
uneventful years they had been, full of affectionate 
duties and pleasant cares, and latterly touched by 
the perception of growing fame. She was just en- 
tering upon middle life : a woman universally 
beloved in her circle of acquaintance, and in the 
maturity of powers not fully recognized by her- 
self and those nearest to her, but which the world 
outside the Hampshire one she knew best was just 
beginning to acknowledge. The daughter of a 
country clergyman, who, so far as we know, was 
only once in her life two hundred miles from 
her birthplace ; one of a large family with such 
advantages only as one might fairly claim in jus- 
tice to the rest, and therefore with no especial 
pains bestowed upon her education, — it could 
not have easily occurred to those who knew her as 
a woman that her name was to become one of the 
brightest in the literature of her country, or to 
those who knew her as a novelist that the books 
which they thought vastly superior to hers would 
soon gather dust upon their shelves, while hers 



12 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

were to continue the delight of endless generations. 
The Annual Register for 1 8 1 7 makes more or less 
extended mention of seven persons of note who 
died in July of that year, — the Rt. Hon. George 
Ponsonby is herein mourned at length ; and the 
virtues of a Duke of Northumberland, an Earl of 
Eglinton, a ninth Lord Arundel, a Lady Ann 
Murray, a Sir William Pearce Ashe A Court, and a 
daughter of Madame de Stael, are set forth in 
appropriate terms. No room, however, seems to 
have been found by the editor of that sedate 
chronicle to record the death at Winchester, on 
the 1 8th of that same month, of an untitled woman 
whose loss to the age in which she lived was 
greater than could have been occasioned by the 
deaths of seventy times seven such as these. 
But how should the editor of the Annual Register 
know this? How should he have heard of one 
whose personality was known to but very few? 

The novelists of that time mingled freely in the 
literary life of the period ; and whatever advantages 
may have arisen from associating with one another 
they may be presumed to have reaped. But of 
literary companionship or associations Jane Austen 
knew little or nothing. She wrote in the seclusion 
of a country home, — a seclusion much more remote 
eighty or ninety years ago than now ; and echoes 
only, and these not strong ones, reached her 
there of the world's applause. That same applause 
had resounded much more loudly in the ears of 
Mrs. RadclirTe or Madame d'Arblay ; but long be- 



PRELUDE. I3 

fore their ears were stopped with dust, the pleasing 
noise had almost died away. Curiosity only leads 
us now to turn the pages of their books; some 
feeling much more permanent sends us to Miss 
Austen's. It was their lot as well as that of sev- 
eral of their contemporaries in the same field to 
outlive the popularity they so quickly acquired ; 
it was that of Jane Austen to die while the sun of 
her fame was not half risen. The sweets of suc- 
cess she but barely tasted. Yet for these same 
sweets I do not think she at any time very greatly 
cared. Sincere appreciation of her writing pleased 
her as honest praise must please any conscientious 
literary worker ; but it was not indispensable to her, 
and no amount of admiration of her genius could 
have destroyed the fine poise of her nature. 

But if Miss Austen missed many of the rewards 
received by women of that day who labored in the 
same field of literature, she at the same time 
escaped many of the trials which are the portion of 
those whose fame is quickly won. The malice of 
detractors, the jealousies of the unsuccessful, the 
hundred stings which may be felt in a literary life, 
— from these she was securely shielded by her com- 
parative seclusion and the slow though sure growth 
of her fame. She surely stands in no need of our 
regretful sympathy, this woman of talent cut off 
from earthly existence in the early dawning of an 
ever-brightening renown. Life had already brought 
her large measure of happiness and affection; she 
had been able to exercise the gift that was hers 



i 4 JANE AUSTEN- S LIFE. 

with little hindrance ; and she had met with approval 
of her work in quarters where approbation wafs help- 
ful and stimulating. She did not feel that her 
abilities were unappreciated or overlooked. 

Nor were they. On the contrary, they were 
admired to as great an extent as the taste of sev- 
enty-five years ago would admit. General favor it 
was impossible for them to obtain at once, because 
they appealed to tastes then shared by few. Miss 
Austen herself could not realize how excellent her 
writing was, for there was nothing in precisely the 
same lines with which to compare it, and her critics 
of course had precisely the same obstacle to meet. 
She must not, then, be looked upon as one who 
was underestimated while she lived. If we judge 
of her work by the standards of her own time, we 
shall see that she was not undervalued \ and most 
certainly we cannot complain because her con- 
temporaries did not estimate her by criteria they 
had not yet reached. She had, in such measure 
as was possible then, the honor she deserved ; she 
accepted it, was grateful for it, and did not lament 
or feel the want of more ; and her life moved se- 
renely on, therefore, to its early close unfretted by 
fears that it was missing what it should have won. 
We may be very sure that she never thought of 
pitying herself; and why, then, should we com- 
passionate her? Rather ought we to rejoice with 
her that life brought to her all the happiness it did, 
filling it so full that no room was left for regrets. 

What that life was, begun in a retired country 



PRELUDE. I5 

rectory and ended not quite forty-two years later 
in a small provincial city a few miles distant and 
beside the walls of its venerable cathedral, the 
pages which follow attempt more or less imper- 
fectly to tell. 



II. 

CHILDHOOD AT STEVENTON. 

"POLDED securely away in a valley among the 
* low chalk downs of North Hampshire is a 
straggling thatch-roofed village, with little to" distin- 
guish it, except perhaps to one who knows it well, 
from countless other hamlets hidden in sheltered 
coombes of southern England. The Southwestern 
Railway crosses the valley on a high curved em- 
bankment which shuts off the view to the west ; but 
so insignificant is the village considered by the rail- 
way authorities that no station has ever been built 
for its accommodation. Winchester, fourteen miles 
south, and Basingstoke, some six or seven north- 
west, are the nearest towns known to any but the 
Hampshire world ; and the traveller to this quiet 
valley, approaching it from Winchester, has before 
him a walk or drive of four miles after leaving the 
train at Micheldever, and one of about the same 
distance if he leaves it at Overton, in the opposite 
direction. 

The highroad to Deane turns sharply to the left 
at the end of the village, and disappears under the 
embankment ; and it is along this road, for the dis- 
tance of half a mile preceding the turn, that the 



CHILDHOOD AT STEVENTON. iy 

dozen or fifteen houses of the neighborhood are 
situated, several being of distinctly recent date. 
Opposite one which seems from its appearance the 
oldest of them all, the road to North Waltham turns 
off to the east ; and just north of this, approached 
through a small bit of thicket, is the rectory, a 
cheerful two-storied mansion, at the top of a well- 
kept, sunny lawn. From here the view widens : to 
westward distant meadows, bordered by broad lines 
of hedgerow, spread themselves out upon the 
swelling downs, and patches of woodland thrust 
their dark masses between. South of the sloping 
lawn, and across the road last mentioned, is a small 
field, shaded at one end by large elms. A dis- 
used pump here, and a depression which must once 
have been a cellar, are now all the signs remaining 
to mark the spot where the rectory of Steventon 
stood, seventy years ago. Along the eastern side 
of this small meadow a very broad hedgerow path 
leads up the slope to the church, less than half a 
mile to the south. Here, beyond the end of the 
hedgerow path, surrounded by a small churchyard 
and shaded on the north by a great hollow yew of 
dateless antiquity, is the church of St. Nicholas, 
seven centuries old. Close at hand are the spa- 
cious and carefully trimmed lawns of a large modern 
manor-house ; and south of this, across an exqui- 
sitely soft stretch of green turf, is the former manor, 
a long grey stone facade of the early Tudor period, 
and, save for its western end, nearly hidden by 
shining ivy leaves and the sweeping branches of 
2 



1 8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIEE. 

ancient trees. From the broad lawns and gardens 
here, the tiny village along the shaded highway can- 
not be seen ; and the eye ranges beyond its green 
tree- tops over sunny slopes covered with fertile 
fields, some of which, no doubt to the farmer's dis- 
quiet, are blazing with scarlet poppies. A peace- 
ful, pastoral landscape it is, with no very strong 
features, but one possessing many charms, and of 
which a real lover of Nature would not easily 
tire. 

Thus looks Steventon and its vicinity to-day. 
The lapse of a century cannot have made any great 
changes in its aspect. Remove from the scene the 
modern manor-house of red brick, the stunted spire 
that crowns but does not adorn the tower of St. 
Nicholas's church, and at least a third of the houses 
in the village ; take away the railway and the pres- 
ent rectory, and in the field beneath it replace its 
predecessor under the tall elms, — and then, with 
some minor changes in the disposition of gardens 
and hedgerows, we have the Steventon which Jane 
Austen's eyes looked upon a hundred years ago : 
then, as now, a handful of homes wholly withdrawn 
from the turmoil of the outside world. 

To this same Steventon came to live, in 1771, 
the Reverend George Austen, then between thirty- 
five and forty years of age. Left an orphan at the 
age of nine, he had been cared for and educated 
by his uncle, Francis Austen, a lawyer of Tunbridge. 
From Tunbridge Grammar School he received one 
of its Oxford scholarships, and entered St. John's 



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CHILDHOOD AT STEVENTOIV. jg 

College, where he subsequently obtained a fellow- 
ship. As a. young man he was known at Oxford as 
" the handsome proctor ;" and when living at Bath, 
after having passed his seventieth year, his clearly- 
cut, refined features and snowy hair made him a 
centre of observation in all companies. No portrait 
of him remains, if indeed one were ever painted ; 
but at Chawton House I saw, in the possession of 
his great-grandson, a full-length silhouette likeness 
of him, in which his elegant figure and scholarly 
profile are very observable. He is here represented 
as one of a group, and holds by the hand his son 
James, who was apparently at that period a lad of 
eight or nine years. 

In 1764, being then in orders, he had come into 
the possession of two adjoining Hampshire livings, 
Steventon and Deane, — the latter the gift of his 
uncle, who had purchased it for his nephew, the 
former the gift of his second cousin, Mr. Knight of 
Chawton and Godmersham. In the same year that 
he obtained these preferments he married Cassan- 
dra Leigh, the youngest daughter of Reverend 
Thomas Leigh of Henley-on-Thames, whose elder 
brother, Dr. Theophilus Leigh, was Master of Bal- 
liol for more than fifty years. At the beginning 
of their married life, Mr. and Mrs. Austen had 
charge of a little son of Warren Hastings, com- 
mitted to the care of Mr. Austen some three years 
before his marriage, most probably, as Miss Austen's 
earliest biographer suggests, through the influence 
of the clergyman's sister, Mrs, Hancock, whose 



2o JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

husband was an officer in Hastings's Indian com- 
mand. This lad, George Hastings, died young, to 
the great grief of the Austens, to whom he had 
become very dear. 

At Deane the three eldest children of the Aus- 
tens were born, James, Edward, and Henry Thomas ; 
and not long after the birth of their third son, in 
1 771, they removed, as has been stated, from Deane 
to Steventon, which remained their home for thirty 
years. The journey was a brief one, less than two 
miles, but the road, now so well kept, was then but 
a cart-path furrowed by deep ruts ; and Mrs. Aus- 
ten, who had not yet recovered her strength, was 
placed upon a feather bed laid upon the softest 
household articles in the wagon, that she might 
make the short trip in comparative comfort. 

The house to which the Austens now came with 
their three young children, the oldest a lad of six, 
though somewhat better than many country rec- 
tories at that time, could not be said to have been 
anything more than fairly commodious and com- 
fortable ; and it was certainly greatly inferior to the 
handsome stone rectory which looks down upon 
the site of its predecessor. In front a carriage- 
drive, or "sweep," as Jane would have styled it, 
wound under the elms from the gateway ; and at 
the back, on the southerly side, the gentle upward 
slope was occupied by a moderately large flower 
and kitchen garden ; and above this was a ter- 
race of close green turf. Perhaps this terrace, as 
Miss Austen's nephew and biographer pleasantly 



CHILD HO OD AT STE VENTON. 2 1 

assumes, may have been in the mind of the novel- 
ist when, in the opening chapter of " Northanger 
Abbey," she describes the heroine's childish joy 
in " rolling down the greensward at the back of 
the house." On the east line of the garden was a 
thatched mud wall, counterparts of which may still 
be seen in many a Hampshire village, while the ter- 
race merged itself to westward in a hedgerow path 
which bounded the rectory meadows on the south. 
Seats were placed at intervals along this shaded 
path, which to the Austens was known as " The 
Wood Walk." On the farther side of the garden a 
broader hedgerow path led then, as now, up the 
slope to the church and manor-house, which in the 
Austens' time and for generations later was occu- 
pied by the Digweed family. In the field beyond 
this path was a small pond, or " duck-pool," which 
has long since disappeared. 

It was a pleasant nook of which all these were 
the outward features, — a spot which the Austens 
came to love very dearly ; yet we are told that when 
Mrs. Austen was still Miss Leigh and was being 
shown the scenery of the locality, she expressed 
some disappointment, missing no doubt the lovely 
river views of her Henley home. However this 
may have been, the seven years' residence at 
Deane had by this time accustomed her to the 
waterless Hampshire landscapes ; and whatever re- 
grets she may once have felt had long passed away 
when she came to Steventon to live. 

In the summer of i88q, I was shown some of 



22 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

the parish registers at the Steventon rectory. One 
of the earlier records contains a careful copy of 
the entries originally made by Mr. Austen's prede- 
cessor in the neat handwriting of Mr. Austin, who 
signs his own name as copyist. Then follow in 
the same neat hand the dates of the baptisms, 
marriages, and burials throughout the long years 
of his ministry, the careful penmanship growing a 
little less firm in the closing years of the century. 
Here is one of the early entries which has an 
interest for us. 

" Cassandra Elizabeth, daughter of the Rev'd Mr 
George Austen, Rector of the Parish, and Cassandra, 
his Wife, was privately Baptiz'd Jan? 9th, 1773. Rec'd 
into the church Janf 25th the same year." 

The records are not of frequent occurrence in 
the register, for neither births nor deaths followed 
hard upon each other in this small village, and 
marriages were few and far between. We have 
but to turn a leaf, then, to find an entry made 
nearly three years later, which recorded an event 
of great subsequent importance to the world of 
letters. 

" Jane, daughter of the Rev'd Mr George Austen, 
Rector of this Parish and Cassandra, his Wife, was 
privately Baptized Dec. 17 th , 1775. Rec'd into the 
church April 5th, 1776." 

The date of Jane Austen's birth, which was De- 
cember 16, preceded the private baptism by one 



CHILDHOOD A T STE VENTON. 23 

day only ; but the birth and baptism of the elder 
sister occurred on the same day. 

Our knowledge of the childhood of Jane Austen 
must remain, owing to the scanty information to 
be obtained respecting it, very largely inferential. 
It was her mother's custom to put out her children 
to be nursed at a cottage in the village ; and Jane 
was probably no exception to this rule. Mr. and 
Mrs. Austen paid daily visits to the cottage in be- 
half of the infant's welfare, and it was frequently 
brought to the rectory by the nurse ; but until old 
enough to run about freely and to talk with some 
approach to clearness, the cottage and not the rec- 
tory was the child's home, probably for the first 
two years of her life. Whatever may now be 
thought of the practice, it was common enough 
in English homes a hundred years ago ; and the 
Austens in following it were therefore doing noth- 
ing unusual. 

The Steventon rectory was already full of young 
life when Jane's year or two with her cottage nurse 
came to an end. Her eldest brother James was 
now a lad of twelve ; and between these two were 
Edward, who was not far from nine, Henry, a boy 
of six, and Cassandra and Francis, with a differ- 
ence of less than a year in their ages, and about 
three and a half and four and a half years respec- 
tively. A year or two later, Charles, the youngest 
member of all, was added to the circle. With so 
large a number of children, among whom too 
were included several pupils of Mr. Austen's who 



24 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

were boarded in the family, we cannot have rea- 
son to suppose that the rectory was at any time a 
dull place to live in. The Austens' nearest neigh- 
bors were the Digweed family at the manor-house ; 
and the intercourse between the two houses was 
frequent and friendly. At Ashe, two miles away, 
lived the Lefroy family, with whom the inmates of 
the Steventon rectory were especially intimate. 
Mr. Lefroy held the living of Ashe, and his wife 
was a sister of Sir Egerton Brydges, the writer. 
He was a regular visitor at Ashe, and in his auto- 
biography, published in 1834, occurs the earliest 
existing personal notice of Jane Austen, which 
reads as follows : - — 

" The nearest neighbors of the Lefroys were the 
Austens of Steventon. I remember Jane Austen, the 
novelist, as a little child. She was very intimate with 
Mrs. Lefroy and much encouraged by her. Her 
mother was a Miss Leigh, whose paternal grand- 
mother was sister to the first Duke of Chandos. Mr. 
Austen was of a Kentish family, of which several 
branches have been settled in the Weald of Kent, 
and some are still remaining there. When I knew 
Jane Austen, I never suspected that she was an 
authoress ; but my eyes told me that she was fair 
and handsome, slight and elegant, but with cheeks 
a little too full." 

Surely the hobby of a lover of genealogies was 
never more perversely brought to the front. We 
are longing for personal details of one who was of 
vastly more importance to the world in general 



CHILDHOOD AT STEVENTON. 



2 5 



than the garrulous Sir Egerton had ever been, and 
he suddenly cuts off his tale and talks of her great- 
grandmother ! 

At the Ashe rectory were the two boys, John and 
Benjamin ; and no long period was suffered to lapse 
in which the young Austens and the young Lefroys 
were not in each other's company. Many years 
later, Benjamin, the youngest boy at Ashe, mar- 
ried the oldest daughter of James Austen, thus 
strengthening the bond between the families. Two 
cousins of the Austens, Edward and Susan Cooper, 
the children of Mrs. Austen's oldest sister, were in 
the habit of paying long visits at Steventon, much 
to the delight of the children at the two rectories. 

The Steventon household contained when Jane 
was about thirteen another inmate, in the person of 
the young Countess de Feuillade, the daughter of 
Mr. Austen's sister, Mrs. Hancock. Her husband 
had been guillotined during the French Revolu- 
tion ; and after that event she was for some years 
a member of her uncle's family, in which she had 
often been a visitor previously. Many years later 
she became the second wife of her cousin Henry 
Austen. The countess was a brilliant, highly ac- 
complished young woman, used to the most pol- 
ished and brilliant society in France ; and what a 
resource such a person must have been in a coun- 
try home full of unsophisticated young people can 
easily be imagined. It is not improbable that she 
assisted her cousins Cassandra and Jane in their 
study of French, for her knowledge, of that Ian- 



2 6 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

guage was so perfect that she passed everywhere in 
France for a native of the country. But however 
much she may have contributed to their education, 
she certainly took an active part in the amuse- 
ments of her cousins. Private theatricals were in 
high favor at Steventon, the young people's summer 
theatre being the barn, and the family dining-room 
constituting their winter one. The principal fem- 
inine roles in these representations were always 
taken by the countess ; and the prologues and epi- 
logues were written by James Austen, whose son 
declares them to have been exceptionally vigorous 
and amusing. The first of these dramas was acted, 
before a very limited audience, we must believe, 
when Jane was not far from twelve years old, and 
the last when she was fifteen. It is not improba- 
ble that she may have taken parts of more or less 
prominence in the casts of some of the latest of 
these plays ; and we know that she certainly acted 
in parlor theatricals in later life. The late Sir 
William Heathcote of Hursley remembered being 
with her at a Twelfth Night party when he was a 
little boy, on which occasion she, having drawn the 
part of Mrs. Candor, acted it with appreciation 
and spirit. Undoubtedly the realistic descriptions 
of the amateur rehearsals in " Mansfield Park" had 
their source in the author's recollections of the 
Steventon dramas of her early girlhood. 

It will readily enough be seen from what has 
been said of Steventon rectory, its inmates and 
neighbors and frequent visitors, that remote as it 



CHILDHOOD AT STEVEN TON. 



27 



was from towns, its young people did not of ne- 
cessity lead either a cramped or monotonous life. 
Their active, ingenious minds devised many plans 
for amusement, and their studies were always intel- 
ligently superintended. Mrs. Austen was a person 
of much native ability and quick imagination, and 
could express herself with ease and elegance in 
writing as well as in speaking. From her it is 
probable that Jane inherited her imaginative tem- 
perament and her lively sense of humor, the latter 
an inheritance which was shared with her brother 
Henry. Mr. Austen was a man of scholarly tastes 
and acquirements, and besides preparing his sons 
James and Henry for the university, directed the 
studies of his younger children in addition to 
those of his pupils, and the many pastoral cares 
which fall to the lot of a country clergyman. 

Nearly eleven years intervened between Jane 
and her oldest brother James, born at Deane 
rectory Feb. 13, 1765. He, while still a very 
young man at Oxford, was esteemed one of the 
ablest writers among the undergraduates, being 
particularly well versed in English literature. In 
the opinion of his son, James Austen directed the 
reading of Jane and Cassandra, and was instru- 
mental in forming their literary tastes. This seems 
not at all unlikely. A bright, studious fellow, fresh 
from the university, and returning full of enthu- 
siasms respecting his favorite authors, would no 
doubt find it a particularly congenial task to im- 
part those same enthusiasms to his young sis- 



28 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

ters, neither of them old enough to question his 
opinions or call for a reversion of his judgments. 

Of her second brother, Edward, born at Deane 
Oct. 7, 1768, Jane saw much less in her child- 
hood than of James, for when quite a young lad, 
he was adopted by his third cousin, Thomas 
Knight of Godmersham Park, Kent, and Chawton 
House, Hants. He inherited his cousin's estates 
in 1794, and in 181 2 took the family name of his 
generous relative. In later life, as will be seen in 
these pages, Jane was much in the company of this 
brother, and seems to have been rather fonder of 
him than of James, though perhaps not consciously 
so. 

Henry Thomas, the third brother, born at 
Deane in 1 771, seems to have inherited very 
much of his father's eager, joyous spirit, and to 
have notably excelled in conversation. As a de- 
lightful companion for young and old he was un- 
equalled ; but unfortunately his ease of manner and 
adroitness in adapting himself to any society were 
not supplemented with that singleness of purpose 
which insures success. He was always full of 
schemes and plans which usually came to nought, 
and at which his brothers and sisters learned to 
smile good-humoredly, and perhaps, as years went 
on, a little sadly, foreseeing the probable result 
of each in its turn. 

Francis, the fourth brother, was born at Steven- 
ton near the close of 1 773, and to him the firmness 
and decision so much needed in the character of 



CHILDHOOD AT STEVENTON. 



29 



Henry seem to have been given in double meas- 
ure. He entered the navy, where his talents soon 
gained him promotion. As an officer he was a 
strict disciplinarian, rigid in demanding the re- 
spect due from others to his office, and punctili- 
ous in according the proper amount of deference 
from himself to others. His religious convictions 
were exceedingly strong ; and he was never wanting 
in the courage of his opinions, at one time being 
known in the navy as " the officer who kneeled in 
church," from which we may infer a certain laxity 
of religious deportment on the part of his naval 
contemporaries. His disposition was a happy and 
contented one ; and the precision and deliberation 
so characteristic of his later life must have been 
admirably set off in the home-life at the rectory 
by the sanguine impetuosity of his next older 
brother. 

Charles, born in 1778, and the youngest of the 
seven, is said to have greatly resembled his sister 
Jane in sweetness of temper and lovable disposi- 
tion, and to have had the good fortune throughout 
his long life of attaching others strongly to himself. 
Like his brother Francis, he entered the navy, and 
soon made his way upward from the ranks of the 
midshipmen, winning as easily by means of his 
warm-hearted, generous temperament the un- 
stinted affection of his comrades in the service 
as he had that of his brothers and sisters. 

It was this same affectionate gentleness of dispo- 
sition, noticeable in every individual of the Austen 



3 o JANE AUSTEN'S LIEE. 

family, and reaching perhaps its strongest devel- 
opment in Charles Austen, the youngest of thern 
all, which bound its members so closely together. 
All, with the possible exception of Henry Austen, 
were persons of strong domestic tastes, by no 
means averse to frequent contact with the world, 
but finding, as children, their chief enjoyments 
among themselves, and as men and women, their 
highest pleasures in their own family circles. 

Of Cassandra Austen we shall hear much in the 
course of this narrative ; but a few words at this 
point may be said of what she was in their child- 
hood to her sister Jane, to whom she was al- 
ways dearer than any one else in the whole world. 
The elder of the two by three years, she, who had 
been the one girl among so many boys, must 
have had, as soon as the small Jane was transferred 
from the cottage- nursery to the rectory, a peculiar 
affection for the longed-for sister. From the very 
first they shared the same room, and whatever 
pains or pleasures fell to the portion of one were 
sympathetically those of the other also. Outwardly 
there was probably more demonstration of affection 
on the part of Jane, Cassandra's nature being less 
impulsive in this respect ; but I am inclined to be- 
lieve that the affection Cassandra gave was no less 
than that she received, although she may have 
found more difficulty in its expression. Still, as 
we possess none of her letters to Jane, it is not 
possible to speak positively on this latter point. 
That hers was the stronger personality may perhaps 



CHIL DHO OD AT STE VENTO.\ \ 3 1 

be inferred from the fact of Jane's sisterly defer- 
ence to her through their whole life, although the 
difference in age may to some extent account for 
this, and from the general opinion of the family 
that while "Cassandra had the merit of having 
her temper always under command, Jane had 
the happiness of a temper that never needed 
to be commanded." In other words, the amia- 
bility of the younger was constitutional, the seren- 
ity of the older the result of the exercise of 
self-discipline. 

When it became evident that the home instruc- 
tion could not longer suffice in all ways for the 
needs of a rapidly growing girl, Cassandra was 
sent to Mrs. La Tournelle's school at Reading, 
and thither Jane accompanied her. It was not 
expected that at Jane's tender age she would be 
able to derive much benefit from the instruction 
at Reading ; but she was allowed to go because if 
left at home she would have been utterly miser- 
able without her chief companion, for, as Mrs. 
Austen used sometimes to say, " if Cassandra 
were going to have her head cut off, Jane would 
insist upon sharing the same fate." It was not 
in all respects a strong, self-reliant nature of which 
such a remark could be made, however lightly, but 
one which nevertheless was capable of intense 
feeling and boundless self-abnegation. 

" So they grew together, 
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted, 
But yet a union in partition." 



III. 



LIFE AT STEVENTON; FIRST VISIT TO BATH; 
EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING, 

PRECISELY how old the sisters were at the 
time of their being sent to school at Read- 
ing does not anywhere appear in the family 
records ; - but we may safely assume the event to 
have been, in Jane's case at least, the first going 
away from home. After that date, whenever it 
may have been, Jane and Cassandra were from 
time to time welcome visitors in Bath, at the 
house of their mother's brother, Mr. Leigh Perrot, 
and at the house of her sister, who, with her hus- 
band, Dr. Cooper, the Vicar of Sonning, near 
Reading, resided in Bath. One of these visits, 
quite possibly the earliest, must have been paid 
by Jane in 1791, on which occasion a portrait was 
painted of her by the then popular artist, ZofTani, 
representing her as a sweet faced girl of not more 
than fifteen. This portrait was long in the pos- 
session of Colonel Austen, of Kippington, who is 
said to have been Jane's godfather, and it was 
therefore most probably painted at his desire. The 
present owner, Reverend John Morland Rice, of 
Bramber Rectory, Steyning, Surrey, a grand nephew 
of the original of the portrait, was bequeathed it 




Jane Austen at Fifteen. 

FROM A PAINTING IN POSSESSION OF THE REV. MORLAND RICE, OF BRAMBEF 



FIRST VISIT TO BATH. 



33 



by Dr. Harding Newman (late Fellow of Magdalen 
College, Oxford), whose stepmother had received 
it from Colonel Austen. 

No particulars concerning this visit have been 
preserved ; but very probably the sisters were to- 
gether when it took place, since their correspond- 
ence, when separated, was frequent and regular, 
and it was Cassandra's custom to retain all her sis- 
ter's letters. That no letters of her own to Jane 
exist, is no doubt owing to her having destroyed 
whatever letters of hers she may have found among 
her sister's papers after the death of the latter. 
Supposing her to have done this, we cannot but 
regret the fact, for without question they would, 
if we had them, add much to our knowledge of 
these two lives which were so much to each other. 

What Jane Austen thought of Bath a few years 
later we know ; but it would have been of excep- 
tional interest if we could have been made familiar 
with her first impressions of that gay city. To the 
young country girl, who had hitherto seen no 
places larger than Reading, Winchester, and pos- 
sibly Southampton, the first sight of the beautiful, 
pleasure-loving town on the banks of the winding 
Avon must have been like a glimpse into some fair 
and strange new world. Bath was then, as it had 
been for more than a century, London writ small. 
Amusement was its god ; and Christopher Anstey 
was its prophet, none the less popular because he 
was not always a sayer of smooth things. 

Here in the narrower streets leading to the Abbey 
3 



34 JANE AUSTEN'S, LIFE. 

and the Pump Room one might have seen in the 
Bath season all the rank and fashion, the wealth 
and wit of London passing between the dark- 
fronted houses. "The Ladies of St. James's," 
who, when in London, went " swinging to the 
play," now in pretended search of health went 
daily in the same fashion to the baths and the 
Pump Room, attended by the same throng of 
gallants and men of fashion who filled their 
London drawing-rooms. The beautiful Misses 
Gubbins were now the reigning beauties in Bath, 
having as rivals the daughter of the Archbishop of 
Tuam and Miss Bedingfield. When Jane Austen 
went on Sundays to the fashionable Laura Chapel 
a few years later, she may have seen all these 
people at their devotions in that home of aristo- 
cratic piety, and near them the famous Mrs. Piozzi, 
short and stout, with a patch of rouge on each 
cheek, or the Duchess of York, with brown hair 
falling about her face, but, let us hope, without 
the retinue of dogs of assorted sizes which usually 
attended her everywhere else. 

Almost any day she might have seen in the thor- 
oughfares of Bath or in the Pump Room many of 
the famous men of her time on the occasion of her 
first visit, — Melmoth, the noted scholar, William 
Hoare, the Royal Academician, the brilliant Sheri- 
dan, the yet unappreciated Herschels, William and 
Caroline, and the host of their contemporaries in 
literature, science, and art, who were familiar fig- 
ures in Bath in 1791. 



FIRST VISIT TO BATH. 



35 



There was in the life of the city at that time a 
glitter of extravagance, an excess of parade, which 
though somewhat less pronounced than in the days 
of Beau Nash, thirty years before, might still daz- 
zle and confuse the wide-eyed gaze of fifteen. But 
if it did so, the bewilderment was but brief; for hers 
was too clear-sighted a vision to be long in doubt 
between shadow and substance, and to lose sight 
of the realities hidden beneath all the multitude of 
vain shows that made up the outward semblance 
of Bath in the last decade of the eighteenth cen- 
tury. However it all may have impressed her as a 
girl, she did not when a young woman resident 
there unduly esteem its fascinations. 

How early she began to write is unknown ; but 
copy-books of hers containing stories and sketches 
written when she must have been not far from 
twelve are in existence, and by the time she was 
sixteen there was a goodly accumulation of these. 
No doubt that first visit to Bath, and the glimpse of 
the great world which it opened to her, stimulated 
the powers she was already beginning to exercise. 
What she thought in later life of the habit of writ- 
ing in childhood may be learned from what one of 
her nieces, who was a girl of twelve at the time of 
her aunt's death, has said : — 

"As I grew older, my aunt would talk to me more 
seriously of my reading and amusements. I had 
taken early to writing verses and stories, and am sorry 
to think how I troubled her with reading them. She 
was very kind about it, and always had some praise to 



36 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

bestow ; but at last she warned me against spending 
too much time upon them. She said — how well I 
recollect it ! — that she knew writing stories was a 
great amusement, and she thought a harmless one, 
though many people, she was aware, thought other- 
wise ; but that at my age it would be bad for me to 
be much taken up with my own compositions. Later 
still — it was after she had gone to Winchester — she 
sent me a message to this effect,— that if I would take 
her advice I should cease writing till I was sixteen; 
that she had herself often wished she had read more 
and written less in the corresponding years of her 
own life." 

It is a slight though not unimportant insight 
into Jane Austen's life that these words afford us. 
In the bright young niece, whose teens were still 
some years ahead, absorbed in the pleasant task of 
transcribing her thoughts and fancies, the aunt not 
unnaturally saw a reflection of her own childhood, 
and recalling her own delight in similar tasks, gave 
a fond encouragement. Her conviction that both 
sides of a question should be regarded, however, 
must have made her give the contrary opinion 
of other people along with her own, and her 
sense of proportion included the added warning. 
Then when she felt herself passing the portals of 
a newer life, came the last word of thoughtful, 
matured advice, founded upon a perception that 
to some extent that necessary proportion had not 
always been preserved by herself in the years 
when girlhood was developing into womanhood. 
She may have lived to think, too, that some of 



EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING. 37 

her own talent might be the heritage of the little 
girl whose tastes and habits were so like what hers 
had been in those far-off but well-remembered 
days at Steventon. 

Of her own juvenile compositions Mr. Austen - 
Leigh tells us that " her earliest stories are of a 
slight and flimsy texture, and are generally in- 
tended to be nonsensical, but the nonsense has 
much spirit in it. They are usually preceded by a 
dedication of mock solemnity to one of her family. 
It would seem that the grandiloquent dedications 
prevalent in those days had not escaped her youth- 
ful penetration." 

It would have been strange indeed if they had, 
for nothing in the nature of affectation or pom- 
posity which came within her range of observation 
seems to have escaped' from her presence un- 
masked, or at least undetected, through the whole 
of her after-life. She disliked shams as heartily as 
a Carlyle could have desired ; but gentle, humorous 
satire, rather than hammer-headed vituperation, 
was the weapon she wielded against them. 

The nature of some of her earlier work may be 
seen in the fragment which follows. One can 
without difficulty imagine the handsome old clergy- 
man, her father, smiling over the mock heroic 
dedication to himself, the indulgent approval of 
her mother, the shouts of delight from the older 
brothers over "little Jane's comedy," and what 
the young writer valued most of all, the generous 
praise of her beloved sister. True, it is but the 



38 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

merest trifle, but yet a trifle that is not without an 
especial interest considered in the light which its 
inventor's later productions throw upon it. 

THE MYSTERY. 

AN UNFINISHED COMEDY. 



Dedication. 

To the Rev. George Austen. 

Sir, — -r I humbly solicit your patronage to the fol- 
lowing comedy, which, though an unfinished one, is, 
I flatter myself, as complete a Mystery as any of its 
kind. 

I am, sir, your most humble servant, 

The Author. 

THE MYSTERY, A COMEDY. 
Drcunatis Persona. 



Men. 

Colonel Elliott. 
Old Humbug. 
Young Humbug. 
Sir Edward Spangle 

and 
Corydon. 



Women. 
Fanny Elliott. 
Mrs. Humbug 

and 
Daphne. 



Act I. 

Scene I. — A Garden. 
Enter Corydon. 
Corydon. But hush ! I am interrupted. 



[Exit Corydon. 



EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING. 39 

Enter Old Humbug and his Son, talking. 

Old Hum. It is for that reason that I wish you to 
follow my advice. Are you convinced of its propriety ? 

Young Hum. I am, sir, and will certainly act in 
the manner you have pointed out to me. 

Old Hum. Then let us return to the house. 

[Exeunt. 

Scene II. A parlor in Humbug's house. Mrs. 
Humbug aitd Fanny discovered at work. 

Mrs. Hum. You understand me, my love ? 

Fa?iny. Perfectly, ma'am ; pray continue your 
narration. 

Mrs. Hum. Alas ! it is nearly concluded ; for I 
have nothing more to say on the subject. 

Fanny. Ah, here is Daphne. 

Enter Daphne 

Daphne. My dear Mrs. Humbug, how d'ye do? 
Oh. Fanny, it is all over ! 

Fanny. Is it indeed ? 

Mrs. Hum. I 'm very sorry to hear it. 

Fanny. Then 't was to no purpose that I 

Daphne. None upon earth. 

Mrs. Hum. And what is to become of — ? 

Daphne. Oh, 'tis all settled. 

[ Whispers Mrs. Humbug. 

Fanny. And how is it determined ? 

Daphne. I '11 tell you. [ Whispers Fanny. 

Mrs. Hum. And is he to — ? 

Daphne. I '11 tell you all I know of the matter. 

[Whispers Mrs. Humbug and Fanny. 

Fanny. Well, now I know everything about it, I '11 

go away. 

Mrs. Hum. ) . , .... , _ 

n , y And so will I. [Exeunt. 



4 o JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Scene III. The curtain rises, and discovers Sir 
Edward Spangle reclined in an elegant atti- 
tude on a sofa, fast asleep. 

Enter Colonel Elliott. 

Col. E, My daughter is not here, I see There 
lies Sir Edward. Shall I tell him the secret ? No, 
he '11 certainly blab it. But he 's asleep and won't 
hear me ; so I '11 e'en venture. 

\_Goes up to Sir Edward, whispers him, and exit. 

End of the First Act. 

Finis. 

But fragmentary writing of this character was 
succeeded by another stage of literary activity, 
in which were produced a number of stories, said 
to be, for some of them are still extant, not with- 
out value. She however never sought to publish 
these ; and her family, reverencing her very proba- 
ble desire, have never allowed them to be printed. 
It must not be imagined that the majority of these 
compositions resemble in any important particulars 
the novels which have made her famous, differing 
in degree only and not in kind. On the contrary, 
they are very dissimilar both as to subject and 
treatment. Mr. Austen- Leigh observes in relation 
to them that " her mind seems to have been work- 
ing in a very different direction from that into 
which it ultimately settled. Instead of presenting 
faithful copies of nature, these tales were generally 
burlesques, ridiculing the improbable events and 
exaggerated sentiments she had met with in sun- 



EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING. 



41 



dry silly romances. vSomething of this fancy is to 
be found in ' Northanger Abbey,' but she soon left 
it far behind in her subsequent course. It would 
seem as if she were first taking note of all the 
faults to be avoided, and curiously considering 
how she ought not to write before she attempted 
to put forth her strength in the right direction." 

It was in this kind of literary occupation, varied 
by performance of the ordinary home duties which 
must have been hers, and by frequent visits to 
relatives in Somerset and Kent as well as in her 
native Hampshire, that the years of Jane Austen's 
life from sixteen to twenty were passed. The first 
draft, as it may be called, of the novel " Sense and 
Sensibility " is undoubtedly a later effort of this pe- 
riod. It was entitled " Elinor and Marianne," and, 
much elaborated and rigorously revised, forms the 
groundwork of the subsequent matured narration. 

At the time of its composition her fancy had 
lost much of its extravagant tone ; and when she 
recast the tale some years after in its present form, 
discarding entirely the epistolary conduct of the 
story, the element of the burlesque had disap- 
peared from her work. 

Whether the tale " Lady Susan " may be dated 
from this period cannot be satisfactorily deter- 
mined. The form of it, — for the story is managed 
wholly by letters, — and the fact that she seems to 
have made no effort to publish it, would seem to 
refer its preparation to a time anterior to the writ- 
ing of " Pride and Prejudice ;" and this is the view 



4 2 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

taken by the members of her own family. A cer- 
tain amount of exaggeration in the drawing of the 
principal figure, and a perceptible want of clear- 
ness in the outlining of some of the lesser person- 
ages, seem to my mind to confirm this opinion and 
definitely to place this work therefore in the num- 
ber of those written before " Pride and Prejudice." 
At the opening of 1796, Cassandra Austen paid 
a visit to her friend, Mrs Elizabeth Fowle, who was 
living at Kintbury, in Berkshire, about a dozen 
miles from Steventon. Her twenty-third birthday 
occurred while she was absent from home ; and to 
her, on that occasion, Jane wrote the earliest of 
her letters which has been preserved. Indeed, it is 
the first piece of her writing the date of which is 
absolutely beyond question, and is therefore valuable 
for that if for no other reason. It is in no sense a 
remarkable letter, but merely such as any sprightly 
girl of twenty might send to a sister from whom 
she had no reserves, and who would understand at 
once all its playful allusions. 

Steventon, Saturday (January 9). 

In the first place, I hope you will live twenty-three 
years longer. Mr. Tom Lefroy's birthday was yester- 
day, so that you are very near of an age. 

After this necessary preamble, I shall proceed to 
inform you that we had an exceeding good ball last 
night, and that I was very much disappointed at not 
seeing Charles Fowle of the party, as I had previously 
heard of his being invited. In addition to our set at 
the Harwoods' ball, we had the Grants, St. Johns, 



EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING. 43 

Lady Rivers, her three daughters and a son, Mr 1 and 
Miss Heathcote, Mrs. Lefevre, two Mr. Watkins, Mr. 
J. Portal, Miss Deanes, two Miss Ledgers, and a tall 
clergyman who came with them, whose name Mary 
would never have guessed. 

We were so terrible good as to take James in our 
carriage, though there were three of us before ; but 
indeed he deserves encouragement for the very great 
improvement which has lately taken place in his dan- 
cing. Miss Heathcote is pretty, but not near so hand- 
some as I expected. Mr. H. began with Elizabeth, 
and afterwards danced with her again ; but they do not 
know how to be particular. I flatter myself, however, 
that they will profit by the three successive lessons 
which I have given them. 

You scold me so much in the nice long letter which 
I have this moment received from you that I am al- 
most afraid to tell you how my Irish friend 2 and I 
behaved. Imagine to yourself everything most prof- 
ligate and shocking in the way of dancing and sitting 
down together. I can expose myself, however, only 
once more, as he leaves the country soon after next 
Friday, on which day we are to have a dance at Ashe 
after all. He is a very gentlemanlike, good-looking, 
pleasant young man, I assure you. But as to our ever 
having met, except at the three last balls, I cannot say 
much ; for he is so excessively laughed at about me at 
Ashe that he is ashamed of coming to Steventon, and 
ran away when we called on Mrs. Lefroy a few days 
ago. 

We left Warren at Dean Gate, in our way home 

1 Afterward Sir William Heathcote, and father to the Sir 
William Heathcote mentioned on page 26. 

2 Mr. Thomas Lefroy, afterward Lord Chief-Justice of 
Ireland; born in 1776, died in 1S69. 



44 JANE AUSTEN'S LIEE. 

last night, and he is now on his road to town. He 
left his love, etc to you, and I will deliver it when we 
meet. Henry l goes to Harden to-day in his way to 
his Master's degree. We shall feel the loss of these 
two most agreeable young men exceedingly, and shall 
have nothing to console us till the arrival of the 
Coopers on Tuesday. As they will stay here till 
the Monday following, perhaps Caroline will go to 
the Ashe ball with me, though I dare say she will not. 

I danced twice with Warren last night, and once 
with Mr. Charles Watkins, and to my inexpressible 
astonishment, I entirely escaped John Lyford I was 
forced to fight hard for it, however. We had a very 
good supper,, and the greenhouse was illuminated in a 
very elegant manner. 

We had a visit yesterday morning from Mr. Ben- 
jamin Portal, whose eyes are as handsome as ever. 
Everybody is extremely anxious for your return ; but 
as you cannot come home by the Ashe ball, I am glad 
I have not fed them with false hopes. James danced 
with Alithea, and cut up the turkey with great per- 
severance. You say nothing of the silk stockings ; I 
flatter myself, therefore, that Charles has not pur- 
chased any, as I cannot very well afford to pay for 
them, — all my money is spent in buying white gloves 
and pink persian. I wish Charles had been at Many- 
down, because he would have given you some descrip- 
tion of my friend ; and I think you must be impatient 
to hear something about him. 

Henry is still hankering after the Regulars ; and as 
his project of purchasing the adjutancy of the Oxford- 
shire is now over, he has got a scheme in his head 
about getting a lieutenancy and adjutancy in the 
Eighty-sixth, — a new-raised regiment, which he fan- 

1 Henry Austen. 



EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING. 45 

cies will be ordered to the Cape of Good Hope. I 
heartily hope that he will, as usual, be disappointed in 
this scheme. We have trimmed up and given away 
all the old paper hats of Mamma's manufacture ; I 
hope you will not regret the loss of yours. After I 
had written the above, we received a visit from Mr. 
Tom Lefroy and his cousin The latter is really very 
well-behaved now ; and as for the other, he has but one 
fault, which time will, I trust, entirely remove, — it is 
that his morning coat is a great deal too light. He is a 
very great admirer of Tom Jones, and therefore wears 
the same colored clothes, I imagine, which he did 
when he was wounded. 

Sunday. — By not returning till the 19th, you will ex- 
actly contrive to miss seeing the Coopers, which I sup- 
pose it is your wish to do. We have heard nothing 
from Charles for some time. One would suppose they 
must have sailed by this time, as the wind is so favor- 
able. What a funny name Tom has got for his vessel ! 
But he has no taste in names, as we well know, and I 
dare say he christened it himself I am sorry for the 
Beeches' loss of their little girl, especially as it is the 
one so like me. I condole with Miss M. on her 
losses, and with Elizabeth on her gains, and ever 
yours, J. A. 

To Mrss Austen, 

Rev. Mr. Fowle's, Kintbury, Newbury. 

The winter not yet half over, and four balls 
already, with a fifth in the near future ! It cer- 
tainly does not appear as if life in that small village 
among the chalk downs was found so very monoto- 
nous by the dwellers there about a century ago. 
In the popular imagination Jane Austen has been 
enshrined as an exceedingly prim, not to say 



4 6 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

starched, personage ; and even many who have been 
willing to admit that she had a good deal that was 
lovable in her nature, have nevertheless insisted 
that she was precise. It is difficult to see just how 
such a misapprehension first arose, but I am rather 
disposed to attribute it to a hasty glance at the 
portrait which represents her in a cap, — for in the 
average mind of the present, caps and rigidity of 
deportment are indissolubly associated. A second 
look at the portrait — this time at the animated 
features beneath the cap — will go far to correct 
this conception ; and a reading of her letters can 
hardly fail to shatter the stiffly outlined image 
which the name of Jane Austen summons before 
the minds of very many people whose hasty impres- 
sions have never received the corrective of sober 
second thought. As a matter of fact, Jane Austen 
when a young woman entered into the amuse- 
ments of those about her with hearty enjoyment, 
and by no means disdained them later in life. 

A good deal of speculation has been indulged in 
respecting the extent of the feeling which may 
have existed between Jane and the " Mr. Tom 
Lefroy " mentioned in this epistle. In a subse- 
quent letter to her sister, dated January 16, are 
several allusions to him, the first being as follows : 
"Our party to Ashe to-morrow will consist of 
Edward Cooper, James (for a ball is nothing with- 
out him), Buller, who is now staying with us, and 
I. I look forward with great impatience to it, as I 
rather expect to receive an offer from my friend in 



EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING. 



47 



the course of the evening. I shall refuse him, 
however, unless he promises to give away his white 
coat." A little farther on she remarks, after speak- 
ing of several of her admirers : " I mean to confine 
myself in future to Mr. Tom Lefroy, for whom I 
don't care sixpence." 

Then on the morning of the ball she writes : 
" At length the day is come on which I am to flirt 
my last with Tom Lefroy ; and when you receive 
this it will be over. My tears flow as I write, at 
the melancholy idea." 

That there must have been a considerable de- 
gree of intimacy between these two lively young 
people is undoubtedly true ; and this arose in the 
beginning from the constant intercourse between 
the Austens and the Lefroys of Ashe, where " Mr. 
Tom " was visiting, — an intercourse which it is to 
be presumed suffered no interruption on account 
of the presence at the latter place of the Irish 
" admirer of Tom Jones." I think we shall not 
go far wrong if we assume some amount of mutual 
attraction resulting from the frequent friendly meet- 
ings at the two houses ; and we do know with cer- 
tainty that after the lapse of more than seventy 
years the Irish Chief-Justice still remembered with 
pleasure the Jane Austen of his far-off youth, 
speaking often of her as one who could not fail to 
be admired, and whom it was impossible for those 
who had known her ever to forget. Who knows 
how far the memory of old age may have been 
tinged with something very like regret that he had 



4 8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

not been moved to put his fate to the touch three^ 
score and ten long years before. 

His appearance pleased her, it is easy to see, 
and she was not at all averse to his society ; but 
some of this may have been due to the impres- 
sion which any handsome, lively, well-connected 
young man might be presumed to make in a coun- 
try neighborhood, where the advent of agreeable 
strangers was not of such frequent occurrence as 
to dull the palm of entertainment. Yet when all 
such allowances have been made, it must still ap- 
pear that she had an unmistakable fancy for this 
young relative of her old friends at Ashe, which 
longer acquaintance might have developed into a 
deeper sentiment. Her heart may not have been 
touched, but her fancy was certainly attracted, 
Nearly three years later he was still occasionally 
present to her mind, for on Nov. 17, 1798, we 
find her writing thus to Cassandra, then visiting 
at Godmersham, in Kent : — 

"Mrs. Lefroy did come last Wednesday, and 
the Harwoods came likewise, but very considerately 
paid their visit before Mrs. Lefroy's arrival, with 
whom, in spite of interruptions both from my father 
and James, I was enough alone to hear all that was 
interesting, which you will easily credit when I tell 
you that of her nephew she said nothing at all, and of 
her friend very little. She did not once mention the 
name of the former to me, and I was too proud to 
make any enquiries; but on my father's asking where 
he was, I learnt that he was gone back to London in 
his way to Ireland, where he is called to the Bar, and 
means to practise.'* 



EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING. 49 

" Too proud to make any enquiries." Surely 
the hesitancy here revealed is of a stronger kind 
than what the presence in the room of her father 
and brother might occasion, for Mrs. Lefroy seems 
to have been, in spite of the years between them, 
after Cassandra, her warmest friend. Another op- 
portunity when the two were together could there- 
fore easily have been found for questioning if the 
writer of the letter had not been " too proud " to 
seek further concerning one who may possibly 
have sent no message of inquiry to his aunt regard- 
ing her young friend. Thus "proud," I am very 
confident, would Jane's own Anne Elliot have 
been. That she loved we may not assume. That 
a friendly interest was excited, and that she might 
have come in time to find this giving place to love, 
I am quite willing to believe. 

But Miss Austen's life was now too full of occu- 
pation to leave place for sentimental regrets, even 
had she been sentimentally disposed, which she 
most assuredly never was. In August of 1796, she 
paid a visit to her brother Edward, then living 
at Rowling, a small Kentish estate belonging to the 
family of his wife, spending a day or two in London 
en route, and returning to Steventon either at the 
end of September or early in October. Five letters 
of hers to Cassandra written at this time are extant, 
one of which it was intended to reproduce in this 
volume. 

Bits of humor enliven the family doings, which 
Jane recounts for her sister's benefit ; and she does 
4 



5 o JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

not disdain a mild pun occasionally. On Septem- 
ber i she writes : "I am sorry that you found 
such a conciseness in the strains of my first letter. 
I must endeavor to make you amends for it when 
we meet, by some elaborate details which I shall 
shortly begin composing." 

A few lines farther on she compares her position 
in having to wait for the escort of her brother 
Henry before she can return home to that of a fa- 
vorite heroine with her, — the Camilla of Madame 
d'Arblay's creation : — 

" To-morrow I shall be just like Camilla in Mr. 
Dubster's summer-house ; for my Lionel will have 
taken away the ladder by which I came here, or at 
least by which I intended to get away, and here I must 
stay till his return. My situation, however, is some- 
what preferable to hers, for I am very happy here, 
though I should be glad to get home at the end of 
the month." 

She had, indeed, a very generous admiration for 
the work of her sister novelist, " Camilla " being, 
however, the novel she preferred to any other of 
Madame d'Arblay's, at this period at any rate. In 
a letter written a fortnight later, she again refers to 
" Camilla " in describing an acquaintance : — 

" Miss Fletcher and I were very thick, but I am the 
thinnest of the two. She wore her purple muslin, 
which is pretty enough, though it does not become her 
complexion. There are two traits in her character 
which are pleasing ; namely, she admires ' Camilla,' 
and drinks no cream in her tea. If you should ever 



EARLIEST ATTEMPTS AT WRITING. 51 

see Lucy, you may tell her that I scolded Miss 
Fletcher for her negligence in writing, as she desired 
me to do, but without being able to bring her to any 
proper sense of shame ; that Miss Fletcher says in 
her defence that as everybody whom Lucy knew when 
she was in Canterbury has now left it, she has nothing 
at all to write to her about. By everybody, I suppose 
Miss Fletcher means that a new set of officers have 
arrived there; but this is a note of my own." 

In this young woman, whose chief interest in 
the archiepiscopal city centred in the officers of 
the garrison there, one involuntarily detects a con- 
siderable likeness to Lydia Bennet of " Pride and 
Prejudice," to whom a red-coat was the sight in 
the whole world most worthy of her attention. 
Lest Cassandra, who writes of attending a ball at 
Steventon, should be tempted to fancy that such 
joys were hers alone, Jane informs her, — 

" We were at a ball on Saturday, I assure you. We 
dined at Goodnestone, and in the evening danced two 
country-dances and the Boulangeries. I opened the 
ball with Edward Bridges ; the other couples were 
Lewis Cage and Harriet, Frank and Louisa, Fanny and 
George. Elizabeth played one country-dance, Lady 
Bridges the other, which she made Henry dance with 
her, and Miss Finch played the Boulangeries. 

" In reading over the last three or four lines, I am 
aware of my having expressed myself in so doubtful a 
manner that if I did not tell you to the contrary, you 
might imagine it was Lady Bridges who made Henry 
dance with her at the same time that she was playing, 
which, if not impossible, must appear a very improba- 
ble event to you. But it was Elizabeth who danced." 



52 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

About the middle of this month (September, 
1796) Francis Austen received an appointment on 
the newly launched frigate "Triton ; " and his de- 
light over this piece of good fortune was partici- 
pated in by his relatives, — for nothing which 
concerned the welfare of any member of this affec- 
tionate family could ever be a matter of indiffer- 
ence to the rest. This appointment seems to have 
hastened his sister's departure from Rowling, or at 
least to have left her in some uncertainty as to an 
escort to London if she did not go when he did : 
" For as to Henry's coming into Kent again, the 
time of its taking place is so very uncertain that I 
should be waiting for dead men's shoes. ," 

There appears to have been a little impatience 
in her mind throughout this visit, as if, much as 
she enjoyed being at her brother Edward's, she did 
not at all wish to prolong the time of her absence 
from home. At Steventon she could of course 
to a great extent command her own hours, but as 
a guest at Rowling it was otherwise ; and per- 
haps at this period she desired to be more by 
herself or to discuss at length with her sister the 
subject that was beginning to fill the chief place 
in her thoughts. For years she had been feeling 
her way to authorship, and now it may have been 
that she felt moved to attempt something of more 
importance than she had done hitherto. At all 
events, she was soon to test the existence of the 
genius within her. 



IV, 



THE WRITING OF " PRIDE AND PREJUDICE," 
" SENSE AND SENSIBILITY," AND " NORTH- 
ANGER ABBEY;" HOUSEHOLD CARES; PER- 
SONAL ATTIRE; PREPARATIONS FOR A BALL; 
PROMOTION OF JANE'S BROTHERS. 

\ /ERY soon after her return to Steventon in the 
" autumn of 1796, Jane Austen took up work in 
earnest. The time of tentative apprenticeship was 
over ; that of definite purpose had come. In Oc- 
tober, when nol yet twenty-one, she began writing 
a novel which it was her intention to call " First 
Impressions ; " but for this she afterward substituted 
the much happier title of " Pride and Prejudice." 
Upon this labor she was engaged for the next ten 
months, the closing pages being written in August 
of 1797, Cassandra and most probably the others 
of the family were aware of the nature of her occu- 
pation ; and that the sister at least was allowed to 
read the pages of manuscript while they were being 
written, is implied in a letter, of the 8th of Janu- 
ary, 1798, where Jane playfully alludes to Cassan- 
dra's familiarity with the story : "I do not won- 
der at your wanting to read ' First Impressions ' 
again, so seldom as you have gone through it, and 
that so long ago." 

The affectionate interest which the older sister 
took in the work of the younger is clearly enough 



54 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

shown in her desire to see again because they were 
Jane's the chapters which she must have known 
by this time almost as well as the author of them. 

Less than three months elapsed after the com- 
pletion of " Pride and Prejudice " before its author 
seems in November to have set about the revision 
and recasting of " Elinor and Marianne ; " and very 
possibly in accordance with her later plan, the 
changing of the title to " Sense and Sensibility " 
was one of the first alterations made upon it. 

In this same month of November she made an 
attempt to publish " Pride and Prejudice," her father 
on that occasion writing the following letter to Mr. 
Cadell, the London publisher : — 

Sir, — I have in my possession a manuscript novel, 
comprising 3 vols., about the length of Miss Burney s 
" Evelina." As I am well aware of what consequence 
it is that a work of this sort sh d make its first ap- 
pearance under a respectable name, I apply to you. I 
shall be much obliged, therefore, if you will inform me 
whether you choose to be concerned in it, what will be 
the expense of publishing it at the author's risk, and 
what you will venture to advance for the property of it, 
if on perusal it is approved of. Should you give any 
encouragement, I will send you the work. 
I am, sir, your humble servant, 

George Austen. 
Steventon, near Overton, Hants, 
1st Nov., 1797. 

As we read this carefully worded epistle with its 
elaborate prefatory compliment, and picture to our- 
selves the manner of its reception, it occasions us 



"PRIDE AND PREJUDICE" 55 

no surprise to learn that the Reverend George 
Austen's proposal was declined by return of post. 
The neat, close handwriting, now grown slightly 
tremulous, would in itself hardly rouse any interest 
in the mind of the busy publisher, who probably 
imagined the author of the novel and the writer 
of the letter to be the same elderly person, with a 
taste for scribbling, but without capacity for anything 
beyond it. Steventon, Hants ! How should he 
have heard of that small village, sunk amid the 
downs of southern England, and perhaps not too 
well known even to the bishop of whose spiritual 
preserves it was a part ? Or how should merit, from 
a publisher's point of view, arise out of Hamp- 
shire? And then the reference to " Evelina," too, 
was unfortunate. Doubtless it was another of the 
numerous imitations of that famous book, too many 
of which had come to him already. No ; it was 
clearly not a work which it would pay him to con- 
cern himself with, and the matter should be settled 
at once on that presumption. It was very soon, 
therefore, that the Reverend George Austen had 
the disappointment of learning that his formally 
worded proposal was declined, and the further 
unhappiness of informing his daughter of the fact. 
For knowing as we do how closely the welfare of 
any particular Austen was interwoven with that of 
all, we may be very sure that here was a painful task 
for the affectionate father, so proud of his daugh- 
ter's dawning talent. 

Whatever feelings of regret Jane Austen may 



5 6 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

have had when this summary rejection of her book 
was made known to her, we have no more means of 
knowing than we have of ascertaining the nature of 
Mr. Cadell's reflections in later life regarding his 
refusal ; but she had too much serenity of disposi- 
tion to allow this hindrance to her desires to weigh 
very heavily upon her spirits, and very possibly said 
little about the affair to any one but Cassandra. 
Complete discouragement certainly could not have 
overtaken her, for before the end of the month she 
was, as we have already seen, diligently at work 
upon another book. Writing to her was always a 
pleasure ; fame she was not unduly anxious to win ; 
and money was not a necessity to her. Discour- 
agement, therefore, if felt at all, could be experi- 
enced but momentarily by a nature like hers. 

Less time seems to have been spent in writing 
" Sense and Sensibility " than upon its predecessor, 
probably because so much of the material was ready 
to her hand, needing only the careful revision and 
recasting which she was now competent to give. 
When it was completed we are not informed, but 
it must have been within a few months, for, as Mr. 
Austen- Leigh declares, a third book, " Northanger 
Abbey," was begun and finished in the next year, 
1798. 

But writing was not the only occupation of this 
busy personage in these years of her young woman- 
hood. The health of Mrs. Austen, at no time 
apparently very strong, was at this period certainly 
very far from being all that could be desired, 



HOUSEHOLD CARES. 



57 



and upon her daughters, therefore, fell the weight 
of the household cares, — a burden borne during the 
frequent absences of her sister by Jane alone. The 
rectory, to be sure, had not now as many inmates 
as it had held during her childhood, — for two sons 
had married and were established in homes of their 
own, two others were absent in the navy, and the 
fifth was but an occasional visitor at home, while 
Mr. Austen had for some time ceased to take pu- 
pils into his family ; but nevertheless there must 
still have been abundant room for the exercise of a 
large amount of housewifely diligence, — a faculty 
which there seems every reason for supposing Jane 
to have possessed. 

Besides the countless indoor cares which she 
must have had, a certain amount of cottage visiting 
— a duty recognized as belonging to the ladies of a 
country clergyman's household — was accomplished 
by her, and there were also varied social duties 
which might not go unperformed. Of all these 
things she writes with lively freedom to her sister, 
who for the last four months of i 798 and a portion 
of the succeeding year was living with her brother, 
Edward Austen. Mrs. Knight, the widow of his 
adopted father, had recently made over to him the 
Knight estate at Godmersham, to which place he 
had now removed ; and to Godmersham, therefore, 
Jane's letters were at this period addressed. " I 
carry about," she observes in one letter, " the keys of 
the wine closet ; and twice since I began this letter 
have I had orders to give in the kitchen.'* 



5 8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

None of the homely family details like this which 
can possibly interest the absent sister are omitted 
from the correspondence ; and it is their presence 
which make the letters so real as we read them nearly 
a century afterward. No eye but that of Cassandra 
was expected to behold what Jane's animated pen 
was recording ; and consequently there is in her 
pages no posing for the public gaze, even had she 
been desirous of thus attitudinizing, which I by no 
means think she was. Could she have foreseen that 
her letters were to be printed, while they might have 
contained less of essentially home matters, and 
would undoubtedly have had a more pronounced 
literary flavor, they would, I am very sure, have 
borne but little resemblance to the published letters 
of many of her contemporaries who seem not to 
have been able to pen the briefest note without 
thinking of the possible verdict of posterity upon it. 

We might have preferred to know, more fre- 
quently than we are permitted to do, Jane Aus- 
ten's opinion of the books and people of her 
day, for of course she had very decided views 
on both books and people, as we can ascertain 
occasionally from the few allusions she does make ; 
but these matters she most probably discussed with 
her sister when they were together, confining the 
topics of her letters mainly to the incidents of 
every- day life. 

" Dame Bushell," she tells Cassandra, "washes for 
us only one week more, as Sukey has got a place. 
John Steevens' wife undertakes our purification. She 



HOUSEHOLD CARES. 



59 



does not look as if anything she touches would ever 
be clean, but who knows ? We do not seem likely to 
have any other maid-servant at present ; but Dame 
Staples will supply the place of one." 

In the same letter which expresses lack of con- 
fidence in the powers of John Steevens's wife, she 
writes, — 

" I am very fond of experimental housekeeping, 
such as having an ox-cheek now and then ; I shall 
have one next week, and I mean to have some little 
dumplings put into it, that I may fancy myself at 
Godmersham." 

In November Cassandra is informed that — 

" Our family affairs are rather deranged at present, 
for Nanny has kept her bed these three or four days, 
with a pain in her side and fever, and we are forced 
to have two charwomen, which is not very comforta- 
ble. She is considerably better now ; but it must 
still be some time, I suppose, before she is able to do 
anything. You and Edward will be amused, I think, 
when you know that Nanny Littlewart dresses my 
hair." 

It was the same hand which so carefully noted 
for her sister's edification hundreds of details like 
these that as faithfully recounted the succession 
of small events which form the background of her 
own novels. She was abundantly aware that such 
trivial matters do not make the whole of life ; but 
she understood their bearing upon it, and that the 
extent of their influence is a variable quantity, 



60 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

depending on the characters of the individuals af- 
fected by them. Her daily routine was such as to 
show her that little matters of every-day existence 
were not to be despised, in the fashion of the 
weavers of sentimental fiction. Her native com- 
mon-sense would have saved her from sharing in 
their error even if her insight had not been keen 
enough to allow her to recognize the subtile effect 
of every-day incident upon character. 

Not unfrequently we find in the correspondence 
at this time allusions to her personal appearance. 
" I have made myself two or three caps to wear of 
evenings since I came home," she remarks in De- 
cember, 1798, "and they save me a world of tor- 
ment as to hair- dressing, which at present gives 
me no trouble beyond washing and brushing, for 
my long hair is always plaited up out of sight, and 
my short hair curls well enough to want no paper- 
ing. I have had it cut lately by Mr. Butler." 

Mr. Austen-Leigh observes, in the course of his 
biography, that the Austen sisters were considered 
to have adopted the custom of wearing caps much 
earlier in life than their years or looks required, 
and from this passage in Jane's letter it would 
seem that she at least began to do so when not 
quite twenty- three. ,Of one thing we may rest as- 
sured, that the articles in question were becoming 
to her, or she never would have worn them. She 
was very far from being vain, but she did like to 
look her best, as what sane woman or man does 
not? 



PERSONAL ATTIRE. 6 1 

Regarding her caps, she enlarges a fortnight 
later : — 

" I took the liberty, a few days ago, of asking your 
black velvet bonnet to lend me its cawl, which it 
very readily did, and by which I have been enabled to 
give a considerable improvement of dignity to the cap, 
which was before too nidgetty to please me. I shall 
wear it on Thursday ; 1 but I hope you will not be of- 
fended with me for following your advice as to its 
ornaments only in part. I still venture to retain the 
narrow silver round it, put twice round without any 
bow, and instead of the black military feather shall 
put in the coquelicot one, as being smarter, and be- 
sides, coquelicot is to be all the fashion this winter. 
After the ball, I shall probably make it entirely 
black." 

This is Tuesday's intention, but on Wednesday 
she takes up her letter to add, " I have changed 
my mind, and changed the trimmings of my cap 
this morning," — a sentence which serves to show 
how constant was the dependence of the younger 
sister upon the judgment of the elder. 

11 1 felt as if I should not prosper if I strayed from 
your directions ; and I think it makes me look more 
like Lady Conyngham than it did before, which is all 
that one lives for now. I believe I shall make my 
new gown like my robe; but the back of the latter is 
all in a piece with the tail, and will seven yards en- 
able me to copy it in that respect ? " 

1 On the occasion of a ball at Manydown. 



62 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE, 

The ball once over, we find her writing of it in 
thus wise : — 

" There were twenty dances, and I danced them all, 
and without any fatigue. I was glad to find myself 
capable of dancing, and with so much satisfaction as I 
did ; from my slender enjoyment of the Ashford balls 
(as assemblies for dancing), I had not thought myself 
equal to it, but in cold weather, and with a few 
couples, I fancy I could just as well dance for a week 
together as for half an hour. My black cap was 
openly admired by Mrs. Lefroy, and secretly, I ima- 
gine, by everybody else in the room." 

And this woman who would not have minded 
dancing for a week together is the same per- 
sonage who has been constantly styled " prim," 
"demure," and "precise." Surely, if this be 
primness, what may its antithesis resemble ? 
Did primness ever before condescend to dance 
twenty dances in one evening even of the 
statelier measures of our great- grandmothers ? 
It must not be forgotten that she who frankly 
confesses to so much enjoyment is not a young 
girl at her first party, but Miss Jane Austen, a 
young woman of twenty- three, already arrived at 
the dignity of " aunt," the heroine of numberless 
balls, and the author by this time of three un- 
published novels. 

Never was the personality of another more 
amusingly misconceived than Miss Austen's has 
been by persons to whom her name has been syn- 
onymous with what is termed " old maidishness." 



PREPARATIONS FOR A BALL. ^ 

But I more than suspect that those who bring 
this awful charge against her have little more 
knowledge of her than what is comprised in a 
familiarity with her name and the titles of her 
books. Let us note the preparations of this 
" demure," sober-minded precisian for another 
ball, which was to take place early in 1799 : 

" I am not to wear my white satin cap to-night, 
after all ; I am to wear a mamalone cap instead, which 
Charles Fowle sent to Mary, and which she lends me. 
It is all the fashion now, — worn at the opera, and by 
Lady Mildmays at Hackwood balls. I hate describing 
such things, and I dare say you will be able to guess 
what it is like. I have got over the dreadful epocha 
of mantua-making much better than I expected. My 
gown is made very much like my blue one, which you 
always told me sat very well, with only these varia- 
tions : the sleeves are short, the wrap fuller, the 
apron comes over it, and a band of the same com- 
pletes the whole." 

Of Miss Austen's own share in the festivities of 
this particular occasion, we hear thus, — 

" I do not think I was very much in request. 
People were rather apt not to ask me till they could 
not help it ; one's consequence, you know, varies so 
much at times without any particular reason. There 
was one gentleman, an officer of the Cheshire, a verv 
good-looking young man, who, I was told, wanted very 
much to be introduced to me; but as he did not want 
it quite enough to take much trouble in effecting it, we 
never could bring it about. 

" I danced with Mr. John Wood again ; twice with 



6 4 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Mr. South, a lad from Winchester, who, I suppose, is 
as far as possible from being related to the bishop of 
that diocese as it is possible to be ; with G. Lefroy 
and J. Harwood, who, I think, takes to me rather 
more than he used to do. One of my gayest actions 
was sitting down two dances in preference to hav- 
ing Lord Bolton's eldest son for my partner, who 
danced too ill to be endured." 

Hardly was this ball over before another suc- 
ceeded it ; and at this one we hear of her having 
six partners whom she names for Cassandra's edifi- 
cation, styling them "an odd set," and then adds, 
with a touch of the cheerful philosophy so strongly 
characteristic of her : " I had a very pleasant even- 
ing, however, though you will probably find out that 
there was no particular reason for it ; but I do not 
think it worth while to wait for enjoyment until 
there is some real opportunity for it," — a lesson, 
by the way, which has never been well conned by 
the generality of the human race before or since 
Jane Austen learned it. 

The allusions to Jane's brothers are exceedingly 
numerous in all of her letters, showing how con- 
stantly they and their affairs were present to her 
mind. Their various journeys, their separate 
family events, their good fortunes, when such be- 
fell, — all are noted and dwelt upon in her letters 
with affectionate interest. And from all that we 
know of them, and this is not a little all told, they 
were worthy of the love of two such sisters as Jane 
and Cassandra Austen, — a love which they repaid 



PROMOTION OF JANE'S BROTHERS. 65 

by the utmost consideration and kindness which 
brotherly affection could suggest and fraternal re- 
gard supply. 

Sometimes we are treated to a glimpse of them as 
they appeared to those who admired them, as, for 
instance, when we are told with sisterly pride that 
" Charles was very much admired at Kintbury, and 
Mrs. Lefroy never saw him so much improved in 
her life, and thinks him handsomer than Henry." 

All were inexpressibly dear to Jane, but Charles 
was probably nearest her heart. " Our own par- 
ticular little brother," she writes of him at one 
time. At another we hear that " our dear Charles," 
then a lieutenant on board the " Scorpion," " begins 
to feel the dignity of ill usage." Accordingly his 
father communicates with Admiral Gambier on the 
subject, and soon thereafter Jane writes joyfully 
that although continued on the " Scorpion," Charles 
will soon be promoted ; and, to add to her delight, 
about the time that this hoped-for event takes 
place, Capt. Francis Austen is raised to the rank 
of commander, and appointed to the " Petterel," 
off Gibraltar. 



V. 



VISIT TO BATH; IN THE BALL-ROOM; LETTER 
TO MISS LLOYD; REMOVAL TO BATH; "THE 
WATSONS;" THE AUSTENS AT LYME; THE 
COBB AT LYME; JANE AUSTEN IN DEVON. 

IN May of the year 1799 Edward Austen, who 
with his wife had taken a house in Bath for 
A month that he might try the waters there for the 
benefit of his health, invited his mother and sister 
jane to visit him for that period. The invitation 
was accepted ; and while Mrs. Austen and her 
younger daughter were absent on this occasion, 
Cassandra remained with her father at Steventon. 
This was at least Jane's third visit to Bath if we 
suppose her first one to have been at the time 
when her portrait was painted. Between these two 
dates, at the close of 1797, another visit seems to 
have taken place, the time of which, indeed, is 
definitely settled by means of a passage in a letter 
of hers from Bath under date of April 8, 1805, in 
which she says : " This morning we have been 
to see Miss Chamberlaine look hot on horse- 
back. Seven years and four months ago we went 
to the same riding-house to see Miss Lefroy's 
performance." 

In itself the matter is of trifling importance un- 
til we assume, as I think we may safely do, that it was 



VISIT TO BATH. 67 

at the time of this second visit, of which we know no 
more than what may be gathered from the above 
extract, that Jane Austen acquired that intimate 
knowledge of Bath localities and customs which 
she turned to such excellent purpose in writing 
"Northanger Abbey" the next 3^ear. The in- 
formation she might have obtained on her first 
visit when a girl of fifteen would certainly not 
have been accurate enough to have served her 
turn some six or seven years later ; and for this 
reason I think it extremely probable that returning 
to Steventon and completing " Sense and Sensi- 
bility," she set herself at work upon " Northanger 
Abbey" while her impressions of Bath remained 
fresh and vivid. Certain it is that she was there- 
fore no stranger to the gay city when she and her 
mother went there in the spring of 1799. 

Her letters describing the events of this latest 
visit are all dated from their temporary home at 1 3 
Queen Square, then as now an exceedingly pleasant 
and cheerful locality. The square, which unlike 
many similarly named enclosures does not belie 
its name, was designed and built by the noted archi- 
tect, John Wood the elder, some little time before 
the middle of the eighteenth century, and consists 
of handsome stone residences of a uniform height 
of three stories, with pillared fronts, enclosing a 
small well- shaded park, in the centre of which is 
an obelisk commemorating a royal visit to the city 
in 1738. From the first the square was a fashion- 
able locality much affected by the gayety and 



68 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

fashion of London sojourning at Bath, nominally 
for the purpose of "drinking the waters." Al- 
though in modern days it has lost a good deal of 
its original prestige, it yet remains for many pur- 
poses a desirable quarter of the town. No. 13, 
where the Austens were staying, is on the southern 
side of the square and at the west corner, fronting 
therefore upon both Queen Square and Princes' 
Street. The neighborhood seems to have favor- 
ably impressed Jane, for she writes to Cassandra : 

" I like our situation very much ; . . . and the pros- 
pect from the drawing-room window, at which I now 
write, is rather picturesque, as it commands a prospec- 
tive view of the left side of Brock Street, broken by 
three Lombardy poplars in the garden of the last 
house in Queen's Parade." 

The " three Lombardy poplars " have long since 
vanished from the scene, and just beyond them 
what was then an open common is now the de- 
lightful Royal Victoria Park ; but from where Jane 
Austen sat to write these lines the eye may still range 
across the square, past the five or six tall dark- 
fronted houses of the Queen's Parade to where the 
houses on " the left side of Brock Street " rise 
above the luxuriant leafage of the Park. 

Her letters at this time from " England's 
Florence " — 

" The lovely city whose grace no grief deflowers " — 
are fuller chronicles of events than those from 
Steventon, as they naturally would be ; but she does 



VISIT TO BATH. 



69 



not forget among them all to detail in lively 
fashion such essentially feminine matters as these : 

" My cloak is come home ; I like it very much, and 
can now exclaim with delight, like J. Bond at hay- 
harvest, ' This is what I have been looking for these 
three years,' I saw some gauzes in a shop in Bath 
Street yesterday at only fourpence a yard, but they 
were not so good or so pretty as mine. Flowers 
are very much worn, and fruit is still more the thing. 
... I am quite pleased with Martha and Mrs. Lefroy 
for wanting the pattern of our caps; but I am not so 
well pleased with your giving it to them. Some wish, 
some prevailing wish, is necessary to the animation of 
everybody's mind ; and in gratifying this, you leave 
them to form some other which will not probably 
be half so innocent. . . . Though you have given me 
unlimited powers concerning your sprig, I cannot de- 
termine what to do about it, and shall therefore in this 
and in every other future letter continue to ask your 
further directions. We have been to the cheap shop, 
and very cheap we found it, but there are only flowers 
made there, no fruit ; and as I could get four or five very 
pretty sprigs of the former for the same money which 
would procure only one Orleans plum, — in short, could 
get more for three or four shillings than I could have 
means of bringing home, — I cannot decide on the 
fruit till I hear from you again. Besides, I cannot 
help thinking that it is more natural to have flowers 
grow out of the head than fruit. What do you think 
on that subject ? " 

Of their amusements we hear something now 
and then. 

" There is to be a grand gala on Tuesday evening 
in Sydney Gardens, — a concert with illuminations and 
fireworks. To the latter Elizabeth and I look forward 



7 o JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

with pleasure; and even the concert will have more 
than its usual charm for me, as the gardens are large 
enough for me to get pretty well beyond the reach of 
its sound." 

A fortnight later saw the Austens at another 
display of fireworks in the same place, when " the 
fireworks," so she records, " were really very 
beautiful, and surpassing my expectations." 

Ninety years have come and gone since that 
delightful evening; and still on gala nights the 
Bathonians stroll out through Pulteney Street to 
experience a similar pleasure in the same locality. 
On the ninetieth anniversary of Jane's second 
evening at Sydney Gardens, a soft, moonless June 
night, I rambled through the shaded pathways, lit 
by countless lanterns and still further illumined 
at intervals by myriads of rockets and candles scat- 
tering their colored fires, my thoughts turning with 
little effort to the brilliant young woman who had 
found in those same leafy lantern- lit alleys the 
pleasures of that long-past gala night surpassing 
her expectations. But for the . railway- cutting 
through the pleasant park, time has not made many 
important changes there in the course of nine long 
decades. Many of the trees are yet standing under 
whose branches she then walked ; and it is chiefly 
the faces and the fashions which one who knew the 
gardens at the dawn of the century would fail to 
recognize there now. Time, indeed, has made but 
little apparent impression upon this city girt round 
by the fair downs of Somerset. It has added, it 
is true, a darker shade to the sombre house- fronts ; 



VISIT TO BATH. j T 

but it has been impartial, and has tinted the facade 
of a year with the same deep tone worn by its 
neighbor of nearly two centuries. Change itself 
is made to wear the garb of permanence here. 

"Age and grey forgetfulness, time that shifts and veers, 
Touch not thee, our fairest, whose charm no rival nears." 

But Jane Austen's knowledge of Bath by this 
time was not limited to acquaintance with its 
streets and the people who filled them, but in- 
cluded a pretty thorough familiarity with its 
suburbs as well. On one occasion she mentions 
with enjoyment a summer walk near sunset be- 
yond the city streets, — 

" Sunset liker sunrise along the shining steep " 

" We took a very charming walk from six to eight 
up Beacon Hill, and across some fields to the village 
of Charlecombe, which is sweetly situated in a little 
green valley, as a village with such a name ought to 
be. . . . We had a Miss North and a Mr, Gould of 
our party; the latter walked home with me after tea. 
He is a very young man, just entered Oxford, 
wears spectacles, and has heard that 'Evelina' was 
written by Dr. Johnson." 

On a fair June morning of 1889 I climbed the 
steep streets leading up to Camden Crescent, the 
Camden Road of Jane's day and of "Persuasion," 
and ascending a flight of steps at its farther end, 
reached the yet steeper path up Beacon Hill, — 
a toil rewarded most amply by glimpses through 



7 2 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE, 

the dense shrubbery crowning the upper hillside of 
the roofs and towers below me of the — 

" City lulled asleep by the chime of passing years," 

The portion of Lansdown still called Beacon Hill 
is now partially covered with houses ; but these I 
soon left behind, and passed along a winding road 
which led away from them down the northeastern 
slope to where the few houses of Charlecombe are 
strung like infrequent beads along the curving lane. 
Here in a pasture sloping up from the roadside is 
the smallest of churchyards with barely space within 
for a diminutive church with saddleback tower, both 
tower and west end almost hidden from sight by 
the dark branches of a yew that was old in the 
time of the Conqueror. From this quiet folding 
of the hills one may see in the distance some of the 
suburbs of the city so near at hand ; but all is green 
and fair and sweet on this secluded hill-slope, and 
the lark's song falling through a thousand feet of 
air and the voice of the cuckoo telling his name to 
all the hills were the only sounds I heard. Surely 

" Peace hath here found harborage mild as very sleep." 

Nearly a century has passed since that evening 
walk of which Jane Austen wrote, but nothing of 
the charm which she found in the lovely valley 
has vanished with the years ; and as the village 
looked to her eyes in 1799, so it appeared un- 
changed to mine so long after. 

It is in one of these letters from Bath that we 
find one of the comparatively few allusions Miss 



VISIT TO BATH. 



73 



Austen makes to her own work. Her first book 
was still known to the family circle as " First Im- 
pressions ; " and it is to this she alludes in a passage 
wherein Cassandra is playfully cautioned to with- 
hold the book from their friend, Martha Lloyd, 
the sister-in-law of James Austen : — 

' I would not let Martha read 'First Impressions' 
again upon any account, and am very glad that I did 
not leave it in your power. She is very cunning, but 
I saw through her design ; she means to publish it 
from memory, and one more perusal must enable her 
to do it." 

It clearly appears that by this time the fact of 
Jane's having written one book or more was no 
secret among the circle of family connections, as 
it had never been in the Steventon household it- 
self. She may have shrunk from being known as 
an author to the world at large, but that the small 
world composed of her own family and immediate 
friends should so know her she was not greatly dis- 
inclined ; and it seems probable that her books in 
manuscript were circulated to some extent among 
the friends most nearly associated with her, for 
their criticisms and suggestions. The advice in 
such matters of Cassandra and her brothers James 
and Henry probably had the most weight with 
her of all that she doubtless received. It is 
more than ten years later before we meet with the 
next reference to her own writing ; and then we 
find her speaking of "Sense and Sensibility," at 
that time passing through the press in London : 



74 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

"No, indeed, I am never too busy to think of ' S. 
and S ' I can no more forget it than a mother can 
forget her sucking child; and I am much obliged to 
you for your inquiries. I have had two sheets to cor- 
rect, but the last only brings us to Willoughby's first 
appearance. Mrs. K. regrets in the most flattering 
manner that she must wait till May, but I have 
scarcely a hope of its being out in June. Henry does 
not neglect it; he has hurried the printer, and says he 
will see him again to-day. It will not stand still dur- 
ing his absence, — it will be sent to Eliza * 

"The incomes remain as they were, but I will get 
them altered if I can. I am very much gratified by 
Mrs, K.'s interest in it, and whatever may be the 
event of it as to my credit with her, sincerely wish 
her curiosity could be satisfied sooner than is now 
probable I think she will like my Elinor, but can- 
not build on anything else." 

In spite of the scanty references which she makes 
to her books, the nature of such as do occur is of 
a character to show us that they occupied no in- 
significant place in her thoughts, though in the 
period between the two extracts just made, her 
pen accomplished but little. 

After this sojourn in Bath, which ended on June 
20, we know nothing definitely of the family his- 
tory of the Austens for more than a year, or to 
be exact, not until Oct. 25, 1800; and we may 
assume that for the greater part of this time 
the sisters were together, since they seldom left 
their parents at the same time, one usually re- 

1 The wife of Henry Austen. 



IN THE BALL-ROOM. 



75 



maining in charge of the household in the absence 
of the other. In October of this latter year Cas- 
sandra was again at Godmersham visiting Edward 
Austen and his wife, and the correspondence was 
resumed. In the letters at this time are many 
references to the two sailor brothers, to the various 
movements of James and Henry, to their neigh- 
bors, their own amusements, and to the contem- 
plated removal of the Steventon household to 
Bath. Cassandra is asked in one place : " Did 
you think of our ball on Thursday evening, and 
did you suppose me at it? You might very 
safely, for there I was ; " and out of the ten 
dances which constituted the employment of this 
evening of revelry, we are quite prepared to hear 
that Jane danced nine. 

At a ball taking place at Deane a few days later, 
she was present, with the same capacity for enjoy- 
ment, dancing, so she tells us, nine dances out of 
twelve, and " merely prevented from dancing the 
rest by the want of a partner." 

Certainly Miss Jane Austen at the age of twenty- 
five was yet some degrees removed from absolute 
formality, in spite of the sobering effect of that 
cap with its coquelicot ribbons. Perhaps it was 
during the time of those three dances in which 
she did not engage for want of a partner that she 
had leisure to observe, for her sister's amusement, 
the appearance of some of the " fifty people " who 
were in the ball-room. 



76 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

" There were few beauties ; and such as there were, 
were not very handsome. Mrs. Iremonger did not 
look well, and Mrs Blount was the only one much 
admired. She appeared exactly as she did in Septem- 
ber, with the same broad face, diamond bandeau- 
white shoes, pink husband, and fat neck. ... I 
looked at Sir Thomas Champneys and thought of poor 
Rosalie ; I looked at his daughter, and thought her a 
queer animal with a white neck Mrs. Warren I was 
constrained to think a very fine young woman, which 
I much regret. She danced away with great activity. 
Her husband is ugly enough, uglier even than his 
cousin John; but he does not look so very old. The 
Miss Maitlands are both prettyish, very like Anne, 
with brown skins, large dark eyes, and a great deal of 
nose. The General has got the gout, and Mrs. Mait- 
land the jaundice. Miss Debary, Susan, and Sally, 
all in black, but without any statues, made their ap- 
pearance, and I was as civil to them as circumstances 
would allow me." 

The incidental allusion to the ball occurring in 
September, of which we know only what may be 
inferred from the reference, will perhaps not escape 
the notice of those who, like the writer, are glad 
to think that Jane Austen was still happy and buoy- 
ant enough to find delight in the amusements 
and pastimes of the people about her. 

There is no trace of ill-nature in these rather 
vigorously drawn characterizations. Cassandra 
would not misinterpret them, she was sure ; and as 
no other eye, so she fancied, would ever rest upon 
her hasty thumb-nail portraitures, she was at no 
pains to qualify what she wrote. They are, in fact, 



LETTER TO MISS LLOYD. 



77 



conceived in precisely the same humorous spirit as 
the following passage from a letter written in the 
same month, November, 1800, to her friend Martha 
Lloyd, then living with her mother at Ibthorp, where 
Tane visited her before the month was ended : 

'' You distress me cruelly by your request about 
books. I cannot think of any to bring with me, nor 
have I any idea of our wanting them. I come to you 
to be talked to, not to read or hear reading ; I can do 
that at home ; and indeed I am now laying in a stock 
of intelligence to pour out on you as my share of in- 
formation. I am reading Henry s ' History of Eng- 
land,' * which I will repeat to you in any manner you 
may prefer, either in a loose, desultory, unconnected 
stream, or dividing my recital as the historian divides 
it himself, into seven parts . The Civil and Military; 
Religion : Constitution ; Learning and Learned Men ; 
Arts and Sciences; Commerce, Coins, and Shipping; 
and Manners. So that for every evening in the week 
there will be a different subject. The Friday's lot — 
Commerce, Coins, and Shipping — you will find the 
least entertaining; but the next evening's will make 
amends. With such a provision on my part, if you 
will do yours by repeating the French Grammar, and 
Mrs. Stent 2 will now and then ejaculate some won- 
der about the cocks and hens, what can we want?" 

It is not unlikely that it was during Jane's 
short visit to the Lloyds that her father, now 

1 Robert Henry's " History of Great Britain on a New 
Plan " was a comparatively recent book at the time this 
letter was written. 

2 An intensely dull old lady, then a member of the Lloyd 
household at Ibthorp. 



78 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

past seventy, suddenly decided to resign the living 
of Steventon in favor of his son James ; for Mr. 
Austen- Leigh records the fact of Jane's absence 
from home when this resolve was taken, and adds 
that as Mr. Austen "was always rapid both in 
forming his resolutions and in acting on them, she 
had little time to reconcile herself to the change." 
Lord Brabourne, in his edition of the letters of 
his great-aunt, observes that this removal does not 
seem to have been so much regretted by her as 
it might naturally have been when one remembers 
that Steventon had been her home from the time 
of her birth till then, and explains this seeming in- 
difference by adding that her home was wherever 
her own people were. Her nephew, writing fifteen 
years before, assures us on the contrary that " Jane 
was exceedingly unhappy " when informed of the 
contemplated change. Undoubtedly he may, when 
a boy, have heard something in relation to the 
subject from his father, who was Jane's eldest 
brother, and writing half a century later, have re- 
corded what he imperfectly remembered, or per- 
haps have unconsciously colored his statement with 
what he fancied that his aunt ought to have felt on 
such an occasion. This supposition seems to me 
not at all unlikely, for I cannot for a moment be- 
lieve that a woman of Jane Austen's even tempera- 
ment would have allowed herself to appear " very 
unhappy " over what her common-sense must have 
told her was for the best. That she remained 
wholly unaffected by the circumstance is of course 



REMOVAL TO BATH. 



79 



impossible ; but if " some natural tears " were shed 
over the approaching change,, she dried them soon, 
and " unhappy " she certainly never became. The 
following passage from a letter to Cassandra of 
Jan. 3, 1 80 1, written after the removal was a 
settled event of the near future, supports the ex- 
planation of Lord Brabourne much better than 
the assertion of her nephew ; but in justice to the 
latter, the fact must not be lost sight of that he 
never saw the letter from which the extract is 
taken. 

" I get more and more reconciled to the idea of our 
removal. We have lived long enough in this neigh- 
borhood. The Basingstoke balls are certainly on the 
decline, there is something interesting in the bustle of 
going away ; and the prospect of spending future sum- 
mers by the sea or in Wales is very delightful. For a 
time we shall now possess many of the advantages 
which 1 have often thought of with envy in the wives 
of sailors or soldiers. It must not be generally known, 
however, that I am not sacrificing a great deal in quit- 
ting the country, or I can expect to inspire no tender- 
ness, no interest, in those we leave behind." 

The change was indeed for the better, so far at 
least as Mr. and Mrs. Austen were concerned. In 
resigning the parish to his son, Mr. Austen could 
feel that it would be ably cared for by one whose 
heart was in his work, as his own had been for so 
long; and in the city he could surround the last 
years of his wife and himself with many comforts 
and enjoyments not possible to obtain in the coun- 



80 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

try, but to which his long life of useful labor might 
now fairly entitle him. His daughter could not 
fail to see this very readily, and without doubt 
adopted at home the same cheerful, sportive attitude 
toward the coming event which is manifest in the 
letter to her sister. 

The decision having been irrevocably made by 
the Austens, there followed a long period of uncer- 
tainty in what part of Bath their new home had 
best be fixed ; and Jane's letters are full of refer- 
ences to the difficulty of settling upon a suitable 
locality. Each of them possessed greater or less 
familiarity with Bath, and separate likes and dis- 
likes for particular quarters thereof, and this did 
not tend to simplify their perplexities. Westgate 
Buildings, in the near vicinity of the baths, was one 
of the first places they thought of, — the same lo- 
cality in which Mrs. Smith is represented in " Per- 
suasion " as living, and thereby incurring the fine 
scorn of Sir Walter Elliot. 

Westgate Buildings were among the earliest of 
the houses erected by Wood the elder in the course 
of his extensive operations ; and as he continued his 
labors, the tide of fashion gradually ebbed from the 
streets first built up by him, until by the time " Per- 
suasion " was written, Westgate Buildings had be- 
come what it is now, — a very unfashionable region 
indeed. At the opening of the century, however, 
it was, if not an extremely desirable location, a per- 
fectly unobjectionable place of residence. Charles 
Street, for which Jane declared a preference, is a 



REMOVAL TO BATH. 81 

short distance farther west. Laura Place, an oc- 
tagonal enlargement of Pulteney Street, east of the 
Avon, and near which they had some thoughts of es- 
tablishing themselves, seems to have been consid- 
ered beyond their means, it being then as now a 
highly esteemed portion of the city. Gay Street, a 
handsome avenue leading from Queen Square to the 
Circus, was likewise thought too expensive a situa- 
tion for their purse. Exception was however made to 
" the lower house on the left-hand side as you as- 
cend," for which a smaller rent was asked, and there 
appears some reason for believing that a few years 
later they did occupy this house for a short time. 1 
Mrs. x-\usten, Jane writes, at one time fixed her 
wishes " on the corner house in Chapel Row, which 
opens into Princes' Street. Her knowledge of it, 
however, is confined only to the outside." As this 
place is exactly opposite the side of 13 Queen 
Square, it is probable that Mrs. Austen had taken a 
fancy to it when staying at the latter place in 1799. 
They were not wanting in advisers, who seem to 
have multiplied rather than divided their perplexi- 
ties ; for Jane observes that her aunt, Mrs. Perrot, 
" will want to get us into Oxford Buildings, but we 
all unite in a particular dislike of that part of the 
town, and therefore hope to escape," — a hope which, 
on account of the steepness of the street in the vicin- 
ity last mentioned, and the consequent discomfort to 
elderly people like Mr. and Mrs. Austen, was a very 
natural one. Against Trim Street, the reputation of 

1 See page 97. 
6 



82 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

which was not much better in the last century than 
in this, they appear to have been jestingly warned. 
All this early in January, 1801, and a fortnight 
later they are still uncertain as ever where to lay 
their heads. 

" Miss Lyford was very pleasant, and gave my mother 
such an account of the houses in Westgate Buildings, 
where Mrs. Lyford lodged four years ago, as ,made 
her think of a situation there with great pleasure ; 
but your opposition will be without difficulty decisive, 
and my father, who was very well inclined towards the 
Row before, has now ceased to think of it entirely. At 
present the environs of Laura Place seem to be his 
choice. His views on the subject are much advanced 
since I came ; he grows quite ambitious, and actually 
requires now a comfortable and a creditable-looking 
house." 

It was easy enough for Mr. Austen to make up 
his mind to exchange Steventon for Bath ; but in 
coming suddenly to this conclusion, he probably 
had not the faintest notion of the amount of per- 
plexity and indecision into which his resolve was 
to plunge himself and family for long weeks after- 
ward. It may all seem a trivial matter to those 
who move yearly and think little about it ; but when 
a household has remained in one place for thirty 
years, the choosing of another home becomes a sub- 
ject of the gravest consideration, and this it certainly 
received in the Austen family. 

" I join with you," writes Jane on January 22, "in 
wishing: for the environs of Laura Place, but do not 



REMOVAL TO BATH. S$ 

venture to expect it. My mother hankers after the 
Square dreadfully, and it is but natural to suppose that 
my uncle will take her part. It would be very pleasant 
to be near Sydney Gardens ; we might go into the 
labyrinth every day." 

Winter merged itself into spring, and spring 
became midsummer, before the anxieties of the 
Austens were at length over. In May, however, the 
transit from Steventon to Bath was accomplished ; 
and the family remained with their relatives, the 
Perrots, whose house was in the Paragon, — a long 
row of tall houses fronting on a steep street in 
Walcot parish, and affording from their rear windows 
an extensive view of Hampton Down and the valley 
of the Avon to Bathampton. House- hunting now 
began in earnest ; and in May Jane writes as follows 
to Cassandra, then visiting the Lloyds at Up- Hurst- 
borne, a village five miles from Andover, near the 
line of the two counties of Wilts and Hamp- 
shire : " I fancy we are to have a house in Seymour 
Street, 1 or thereabouts. My uncle and aunt like 
the situation." A few lines farther on we read that 
Jane and her uncle, Mr. Perrot, have been to see 
some house in Green Park Buildings, very near the 
Seymour Street just mentioned. On May 1 2 she 
explores a house in the latter street, and on the 
2 1 st they hear such unfavorable accounts of 
Green Park Buildings that they decide definitely 

1 Seymour Street, which leads south from James Street 
opposite Charles Street, is a short thoroughfare, one side of 
which is now occupied by the Midland Railway Station. 



84 JANE AUSTEN'S L/EE. 

against that locality at any rate, and also against 
some houses close by in New King Street. 

In what manner they reached a final decision, or 
at just what time, there are no records existing 
to inform us, the last letter of this year being that 
of May 21 ; but the absolute necessity of making 
some choice may have driven them hastily into a 
decision at the last moment, for they ended by 
settling in a vicinity not before thought of by them, 
though nearer Laura Place than any other named 
in the letters. This was Sydney Place, a handsome 
range of three-storied houses in Bathwick parish, 
between the ends of Pulteney and Bathwick streets. 
These residences faced the Sydney Gardens, so 
that Jane's desire to be near that pleasure-ground 
had now its realization. The house in which they 
lived, and which presents exactly the same appear- 
ance as its neighbors, is No. 4, and is the 
fourth from Pulteney Street. In Mr. Austen-Leigh's 
memoir the locality is named as • Sydney Terrace, 
which is a slight error, for as Mr. Peach, the his- 
torian of Bath, has assured me, " there never was 
a Sydney Terrace at all until some years after Miss 
Austen's time." 

Of the four years spent in Bath by the Austen 
family we hear from the correspondence of the last 
one only, and perhaps may conclude, from want of 
definite information to the contrary, that the sisters 
were not separated for any long period during these 
years. How the time was passed by Jane herself 
must now be fairly clear from what we know of her 




Number Four, Sydney Place. 

THE AUSTEN HOME AT BATH. 



REMOVAL TO BATH. 85 

habits and preferences. In such a place and with 
her frankly admitted liking for society and her en- 
joyment of it in moderation, it is by no means 
likely that these were years of seclusion. At the 
proper seasons there were the Assembly Balls to 
attend at the Upper and Lower Rooms ; and like 
her own Catherine Morland and Anne Elliot, she 
must have gone frequently to the Pump Room to 
meet her acquaintances, and have strolled with them 
at evening along the Crescent. And there were the 
much -admired Sydney Gardens in front of her own 
door ! 

Her fondness for walking and her keen enjoy- 
ment of scenery led her to extend her rambles in 
the suburbs much farther than she was able to do 
in the course of her previous visits ; and she could 
now enjoy the felicity of Cassandra's company in 
these excursions, which supplied the one thing 
needed to make her perfectly happy in them. To- 
gether they must have roamed the downs above 
Sham Castle or the grounds about Prior Park, 
which Pope and Fielding had found so charming, 
and which the latter had long before celebrated in 
the opening of "Torn Jones." Beechen Cliff they 
found without doubt as pleasing as did Catherine 
Morland in the company of Henry Tilney; and 
Lansdown, on the opposite side of the city, they 
could not have helped knowing well, perhaps as far 
northward as the famous Prospect Stile, whence on 
clear days, beyond the towers of Bristol, one may 
catch the gleam of the waters of the Bristol Channel. 



86 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Indeed, we cannot go far wrong in assuming an 
intimate acquaintance on Jane's part during these 
four years with most of the places of interest in and 
about the city — 

" Loved of men, beloved of us, souls that fame inspheres." 

As one wanders through its streets, or surveys it 
from the green cordon of its hills, it is pleasant to 
think that one is treading in Jane Austen's foot- 
steps. Not every association which clings to this 
city " girt about with beauty " is so fragrant as those 
which connect it with her name ; and surely few 
are better worth the cherishing. 

That her pen was not entirely laid aside during 
these years at Bath the unfinished story which Mr. 
Austen- Leigh has styled, "The Watsons," affords 
testimony, if we agree with him in considering it 
to be a work of this period. Certainly he would 
have been quite right in judging from the internal 
evidence presented by its style that it did not be- 
long to the number of her early sketches and frag- 
mentary tales, even if he had not had the water- 
marks of the paper on which it is written to assist 
him toward this conclusion. As these water-marks 
are dated 1803 and 1804, we are able of course to 
assert positively that it could not have been written 
before the years named ; but it must remain purely 
a matter of opinion whether these pages may not 
have been written either at Southampton or Chaw- 
ton as well, for the water-mark of 1804 would not 
disprove the latter assumption. It has unquestiona- 



"THE WATSONS." 87 

bly a maturity of thought not so distinctly tracea- 
ble in her first three books, though of course it is 
wanting in the finish which they as completed and 
revised works possess ; and who can say that it does 
not belong to the time when in the quiet cottage at 
Chawtonshe began to write again with even more de- 
votion to her task than she showed in the years from 
1 796 to 1 798 ? Still the classification which places 
its date somewhere about 1804 is a convenient one ; 
and if it cannot be conclusively proved can as little 
be disproved, and therefore for practical purposes 
may be accepted. 

It is not a work which is familiar to most readers, 
even to those who know the six completed novels 
intimately, and has not, I think, received quite the 
attention it deserves. To a generation which is 
disposed to regard with reverence the half-com- 
pleted tales, the fragmentary sketches, and even the 
pencilled memoranda found upon the writing-desks 
of the great masters of fiction when the chair is for- 
ever pushed aside and the pen laid away to be 
taken up no more, this story, unrevised fragment 
as it is, but showing on every page whose the prac- 
tised hand that penned it, should be of especial 
interest. Not without much truth her nephew says 
of it : — 

" I think it will be generally admitted that there is 
much in it which promised well: that some of the char- 
acters are drawn with her wonted vigor, and some with 
a delicate discrimination peculiarly her own; and that 
it is rich in her especial power of telling the story and 



SS JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

bringing out the characters by conversation rather than 
by description." 

To Cassandra the writer seems to have talked 
freely of her plans in regard to this story ; and 
when in her old age the surviving sister was 
showing the manuscript of this tale to some of her 
nieces, she told them in what manner Jane had 
intended to complete it, but seems not to have 
added, what did not occur to them to ask, when 
it was written. 

In September, 1804, Mr. and Mrs. Austen and 
their daughter Jane spent some weeks in lodgings 
at Lyme-Regis, on the Dorset coast, but close to 
the borders of Devon ; and it is to the impressions 
received during this visit that we owe certain mem- 
orable scenes in " Persuasion." The picturesque 
little watering-place, of more consequence then 
than now, when Bournemouth, Boscombe, Torquay, 
and other towns along the Dorset and Devon shores 
have risen into notice, seems, with its irregular lines 
of houses, jostling one another in their efforts to 
find standing room along the beach at the base 
of the great Dorset downs, to have greatly de- 
lighted Jane Austen. When, in " Persuasion," she 
makes Anne Elliot say of Lyme, " So much 
novelty and beauty ! I have travelled so little that 
every fresh place must be interesting to me ; but 
there is real beauty at Lyme, and, in short, my im- 
pressions of the place are very agreeable," she is 
declaring her own likings as well as Anne Elliot's. 



THE AUSTENS AT LYME. 89 

So strongly indeed was she impressed by the little 
town and vicinage that the only extended descrip- 
tion of scenery she permits herself to give in any of 
her novels is one of which Lyme and its neighbor- 
hood is the subject. Of this particular passage I 
shall have more to say later ; but I am very sure 
that any one who has had the happiness of seeing 
this corner of Dorsetshire will heartily echo Jane 
Austen's enthusiastic assertion that " a very strange 
stranger it must be who does not see charms in the 
immediate environs of Lyme to make him wish to 
know it better." 

The locality of the Austen lodgings Jane omits to 
mention in her letter to Cassandra, then visiting 
the Lloyds at Ibthorp ; but we may assume them to 
have been in the newer and less crowded portion 
of the town, west of the noisy little river Lyme, 
and not far from the esplanade. Mr. Austen's 
advanced years would naturally have made him 
averse to choosing a house which could be reached 
only by one of the steep hillside streets for which 
Lyme is so famous ; and the older streets, east of 
the Lyme, must have been then as now too redolent 
of fish to make them altogether desirable for resi- 
dence. I am inclined therefore to think their home 
to have been in one of the group of houses between 
the esplanade and the roadway leading to the Cobb, 
as the breakwater is locally termed. Nevertheless, 
wherever situated, their rooms appear to have left 
something still to be desired, for Jane informs her 
sister that " nothing can exceed the inconveniences 



9 o JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

of the offices except the general dirtiness of the 
house and furniture and all its inhabitants." 

There was much to occupy Jane's time during the 
sojourn at Lyme, as the observations in her letter 
of September 14 sufficiently show. Attentions to 
the comforts of her parents, calls, walks upon the 
Cobb, and the Thursday balls, — these, with the 
bathing, must have taken a large share of it, but we 
know from " Persuasion" that they did not absorb 
it all. Up- Lyme, Pinney, the pretty, neat, village 
of Charmouth near the mouth of the small river 
Char, — these she knew well, and must frequently 
have walked to one or other of them, along roads 
and paths which offer at almost every step views 
that are among the most beautiful in England. 
That these were as generally appreciated in her 
time as now may fairly be questioned. Ninety or 
a hundred years ago, the world was only just begin- 
ning to see beauty in scenery which had not called 
in the aid of the landscape gardener to enhance its 
attractiveness ; and what then brought strangers to 
Lyme was not the charm of its surroundings, but 
nominally its character as a health resort, and 
in reality its reputation as a watering-place with 
some pretensions to be called fashionable. Miss 
Austen was one of the first to see in Lyme some- 
thing of interest apart from its two " lions " — the 
George Inn, where the Duke of Monmouth stayed 
after his landing here in 1685, and the remarkable 
stone cobb, or pier — and the visitors themselves. 
Since her day Lyme- Regis has never wanted for 
eulogists. 




Views at Lyme Regis. 



THE COBB AT LYME. 



9 1 



The Cobb, which is so prominent a feature in 
" Persuasion," has undergone extensive alterations 
since that book was written. In 1824 it was so 
greatly damaged by a severe storm that it was de- 
termined by the Board of Ordnance to rebuild and 
extend it. Accordingly, in April, 1825, under the 
direction of Lieutenant Fanshawe, of the Royal En- 
gineers, operations were begun upon the Cobb, 
which were not completed until a year from the fol- 
lowing November, when the structure was left in its 
present substantial, shapely condition. It consists of 
a broad upper level, with a lower level on the shore- 
ward or harbor side, some ten feet below the other. 
At present the levels are connected by a double 
flight of steps near the shoreward end, and two 
single nights at other points. The central flight, 
showing from the distance as a dark diagonal line 
along the side of the wall, consists of rough stones 
projecting from its face, and is locally known 
as "the teeth." When the Cobb was rebuilt, a 
hundred feet, which did not require reconstruction, 
were left in the same state as before. This por- 
tion, which includes " the teeth," was built in 
1792, and is called "the new Cobb" in "Persua- 
sion," and is therefore all that is left of the Cobb 
which Jane Austen knew. Down those steep steps 
the party in " Persuasion " descended on the mem- 
orable occasion when Louisa Musgrove insisted on 
jumping down them, and fell so tragically at the 
bottom. 

It is related that when Lord Tennvson was 



9 2 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

visiting Lyme, his friends there were exceedingly 
anxious to show him where the Duke of Mon- 
mouth landed, which it is extremely doubtful if 
they could have done, since there is no existing 
trace of the pier upon which he disembarked. 
Much to their surprise, the poet exclaimed with 
considerable indignation, " Don't talk to me of the 
Duke of Monmouth ! Show me the precise spot 
where Louisa Musgrove fell." 

If the Austens visited other places than. Lyme 
in the autumn of 1804, Mr. Austen-Leigh's me- 
moir makes no mention of the fact ; and as the 
Brabourne edition of the Austen letters contains 
none of this year, we have no further authentic ac- 
count of their movements at this time. A writer in 
"Temple Bar " for 1879 asserts, however, that either 
just before or just after their stay at Lyme, they 
passed some time at Teignmouth, lodging in a house 
said to be still standing, and called by the same 
name as then, — " Great Bella Vista," — but gives 
no authority for the statement. Teignmouth, as no 
tourist in Devon needs to be informed, is a fashion- 
able resort on the Devonshire coast, sixteen miles 
south of Exeter ; and that Jane Austen may have 
visited it is not at all unlikely, for she was by no 
means unfamiliar with localities in Devon. Bar- 
ton Cottage, the home of the Dashwoods, in " Sense 
and Sensibility," is mentioned as only four miles 
north of Exeter ; and the scenery in its neighbor- 
hood is described with too much exactness to lead 
us to believe it entirely imaginary. Dawlish, named 



JANE AUSTEN IN DEVON 93 

in the same work, is but three miles from Teign- 
mouth; and the presumption in my mind is 
that either in this year or in some other of the 
family residence in Bath, she spent enough time 
in Devonshire for her to acquire a pretty intimate 
knowledge of its localities, — information which 
she afterward used in preparing " Sense and Sensi- 
bility " for the press, and in writing " Persuasion." 
This may not improbably have been in 1802 ; for 
in one of her letters of 18 14 she refers to her 
acquaintance with Dawlish twelve years previously. 
Unfortunately, the letters for this period which 
would settle this and many other points in her 
history are no longer in existence. 

How long Miss Austen remained in Lyme is not 
known, nor if this were her only visit ; but whether 
the possible trip to Teignmouth took place before 
or afterward, one thing is certain, that in the late 
autumn the Austens were again in Bath, and the 
family life was resumed at Sydney Place. So far 
as is known, this was the last time the Rever- 
end George Austen was ever to leave home until 
the time when he should go out from its doors to 
return no more. But how shortly this was to be 
the Austens could not know. 



VI. 



DEATH OF JANE'S FATHER; LODGINGS IN 
BATH; JANE AUSTEN IN SOCIETY; VISITS 
IN KENT, 

TN Mr. Austen- Leigh's memoir of his aunt he 
A makes mention that his grandfather, the 
Reverend George Austen, died in Bath in Feb- 
ruary, 1805, and that he was buried in Walcot 
Church in that city. Lord Brabourne, chronicling 
the same fact in the introduction to his edition of 
the Austen letters, simply says that the death oc- 
curred early in 1805. Hoping to ascertain the 
exact date of the event, if possible, I went one 
morning, in June of 1889, to the mother church 
of Walcot parish, St. Swithin's, and among the 
hundreds of tablets which almost entirely cover the 
walls of the interior, looked in vain for one to com- 
memorate the virtues of the rector of Steventon. 
The verger, amazed that I passed by the monu- 
ments to Anstey and Madame d'Arblay with a 
hasty glance, assured me that there was no such 
tablet in the church as the one I was seeking, and 
in deprecatory excuse of the seeming neglect on 
the part of the Austen family to provide such a 
memorial, added that " literary people did n't often 
have much money to spend in that way." 



DEATH OF JANE'S FATHER. 95 

Whether Jane Austen and her family were with- 
held from recording their father's merits in marble 
in this place by any such reasons as this may 
be questioned ; but certain it is that St. Swithin's 
Church, the place of his burial, contains no other 
memorial of him than a brief entry in the burial 
register of the parish for 1805. This record in- 
cludes merely the date, Jan. 26, 1805, and the 
number of the vault where the interment was 
made. 

It may seem not a little singular that there 
should be no other remembrance of him here be- 
yond this faded leaf in a time-worn parish register 
seldom seen by any but the verger and some in- 
frequent visitor like myself; but doubtless there 
were good and sufficient reasons why no stone to 
his memory was added to the many mural tablets 
which the church contains. It was not because he 
was not affectionately remembered, we may be very 
sure. 

But, some one may urge, if he were thus remem- 
bered, why are no allusions made to him in the 
letters of his daughter after his death? And in 
regard to this query, it must be admitted that the 
only possible reference to him in Jane's letters 
subsequently to this period, occurs in one of April 
8, 1805, where, speaking of the expected death of 
their friend, Mrs. Lloyd, she says, " May her end 
be as peaceful and easy as the one we have wit- 
nessed ! " And yet it would not be fair to accuse 
her of indifference because of her apparent silence 



9 6 JANE AUSTEN'S LIEE. 

in reference to this great family sorrow ; for all our 
existing knowledge of the Austen family is against 
such an assumption. It must be borne in mind 
that from May 21, 1801, to August 24, 1805, we 
have no letters of hers save one written from 
Lyme the September before Mr. Austen's death, 
and two others from Bath in the April which fol- 
lowed it. Because in these two letters, out of 
others which may have been written, her father is 
not mentioned except inferentially, there is hardly 
warrant for the belief that he was not mourned. 
Far from it. We must believe from what we know 
of her nature that she felt his loss as sincerely as any 
one could do ; but her sunny temperament prob- 
ably preserved her from continually dwelling upon 
it. Cassandra Austen, who knew intimately every 
thought almost of her sister's heart, most assuredly 
did not convict her of want of feeling. Their 
common loss was a common sorrow, too closely 
shared to need the relief of many words. 

Soon after Mr. Austen's death, the family re- 
moved from Sydney Place to Gay Street ; but as 
to the exact locality of their new residence there 
exists some difference of opinion. Mr. Peach, in 
his " Historic Houses of Bath," expressly declares 
that the Austens removed from Sydney Place to 
No. 1 Gay Street ; while Mr. Wodehouse, M. P. 
for Bath, in a published address upon Miss 
Austen's life and works, gives the number as 25, 
and Lord Brabourne merely says that the family 
removed to Gay Street. Jane Austen's letter of 



LODGINGS IN BATH. 



97 



April 8, 1805, quoted in her nephew's memoir, is 
dated from No. 25 Gay Street; but on April 21 
she heads her letter with " Gay Street " simply. 

No. 1 Gay Street is no longer in existence. 
It was a fine house with a side entrance under a 
handsome porch, and a few years ago was pulled 
down in order to widen the approach to the Vic- 
toria Park. The street has not been renumbered, 
so that at present there is no No. 1 . Mr. Peach 
is very firm in his belief that the Austens lodged 
here, although the reasons for his faith do not 
seem to me altogether clear. Those who prefer 
to think of Jane Austen as at No. 25 have at 
least the satisfaction of knowing that that house 
still exists. 

But whichever locality be the correct one, the 
Austen residence in this street was not of long 
duration, for in the late spring or early summer of 
1 305 Mrs. Austen and her daughters removed to 
No. 2 7, Green Park Buildings, 1 — a pleasant locality 
not far from Gay Street, and very near the pres- 
ent Midland Railway Station. The opposite sides of 
a small triangular park, which is open at its base or 
southern side, are here built up with rows of hand- 
some stone houses the windows of which command 
cheerful views in several directions, the green 
background of Beechen Cliff to the south being 
an especially prominent feature in the prospect. 

But the Austens' life at Bath was now drawing to 
a close ; and before the end of 1805 the family was 

1 Now Green Park. 
7 



9 8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

established at Southampton. That the four years 
of Jane's residence in Bath were much enjoyed by 
her is unquestionable. It is, however, a generally 
received opinion that she cared nothing for so- 
ciety, and seldom mingled in it ; but this, like 
many other opinions hastily accepted without 
inquiry, is an erroneous one. For the frivolous, 
empty tide of London fashion which flowed 
through Bath in certain seasons, carrying with it 
to the provincial city the polished vices as well as 
the glittering follies of the metropolis, she certainly 
did not care. That society knew her not. Nor was 
she known to the literary men and women of the day 
who might now and then be seen in the Pump Room 
in the company of the other notables of the time. 
Nothing of hers had yet been published ; for al- 
though Bull, a publisher in Old Bond Street, had 
purchased in 1802 the manuscript of " Northanger 
Abbey" for the sum of ten pounds, it was lying 
untouched, and possibly unread, among his papers 
at the epoch of her leaving Bath. Such slight 
encouragement as this had not tempted her to 
consider herself a literary personage ; and she ac- 
cordingly made no effort to know personally the 
men and women whose books she knew, and 
whose faces must some of them have been familiar 
to her among the people she saw at the Pump 
Room or in the streets. 

But because Miss Austen mingled neither in the 
literary society of the day nor in the ranks of the 
ultra- fashionable, it must not be supposed that she 



JANE AUSTEN IN SOCIETY. gg 

dwelt in hermit-like seclusion these four years. 
The preceding pages will have been written in 
vain if they have not shown that she found 
pleasure in the usual pursuits of society, — its 
visits, its balls and parties, and, in short, its en- 
tire round of engagements. Her handsome face 
and winsome manners brought her much attention 
wherever she went ; and her wit and vivacity made 
her conversation eagerly listened to. She was not 
in the least deceived as to the nature of the ad- 
miration she received, for she could very clearly 
discern the boundary line between flattery and 
sincerity; but she could not help knowing that 
she w r as attractive, and she took an honest pleasure in 
the fact. Gay society did not "make for her the 
whole of life, but it added to it a great deal that 
was congenial to her. Before she came to live in 
Bath, she had gone much into social life in the 
neighborhood of Steventon and Winchester, had 
danced at more than one ball in Kent, and was 
no stranger to the Bath Assembly Rooms ; but 
continued residence in the latter city offered her 
increased advantages, which there is every reason 
to suppose that she improved. Although it has 
suited the fancy of many persons, three quarters 
of a century after her death, to label her " the 
prim Miss Austen," we may be very positive that 
the lively young people of her own circle, 
the many young men she danced with, or the 
many girls she sat and talked with so gayly 
never applied such an adjective to her. 



ioo JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

The close of 1804 brought with it the first great 
sorrow of her life, — the loss of her friend, Mrs. 
Lefroy of Ashe, who was killed by a fall from her 
horse on Jane's twenty-ninth birthday (Decem- 
ber 16). Though a number of years the elder of 
the two, Mrs. Lefroy was, next to Cassandra, Jane's 
closest friend. There were, in fact, many points of 
resemblance between the two in character as well as 
in person ; and the fondness Mrs. Lefroy had shown 
for Jane as a child had ripened into the deepest 
affection for her as a woman. Like Jane, she was 
very attractive in appearance ; and her eager en- 
thusiasm found its counterpart in the younger 
woman's fresh delight in new scenes and new 
people. Her death could not fail to make a deep 
and lasting impression upon Jane, who, four years 
later, wrote a poem of some length in memory of 
her friend. Of this poem it is quite enough to 
say that while in every way commendable as to 
sentiment, its merit as verse is not great enough 
to make us wish that she had devoted more time 
to metrical studies. 

A few weeks after Mrs. Lefroy' s death occurred 
that of Mr. Austen, as we have already noted ; and 
these two great sorrows coming so closely upon 
one another may have made Jane not averse to 
leaving Bath altogether, when such a change was 
decided upon. But before the change of resi- 
dence to Southampton was made, Mrs. Austen and 
her daughters paid a visit to their relatives in Kent. 
The sisters were not, however, together at this time, 



VISITS IN KENT. 101 

for on the 24th of August, 1805, Jane, who 
was then staying at Godmersham Park, some six 
or seven miles south of Canterbury, takes occasion 
to write to Cassandra, then a guest at Goodnestone x 
Farm, between Canterbury and Deal. In this let- 
ter we get incidentally a glimpse of the gentle, 
obliging disposition which made "Aunt Jane" so 
popular among her nephews and nieces : — 

"Yesterday was a very quiet day with us; my 
noisiest efforts were writing to Frank and playing at 
battledore and shuttlecock with William. He and I 
have practised together two mornings, and improve 
a little ; we have frequently kept it up three times, 
and once or twice six" 

It is an attractive picture which this extract 
summons up before us. One can very readily see 
the animated, handsome woman whose nearly 
thirty years did not oppress her with a weight of 
dignity so great as to prevent her enjoyment of 
a childrens' game, and who was always ready to 
leave her own employment in order to please an 
importunate small nephew by joining him in his. 

A day or two later the sisters changed places, 
meeting in Canterbury en route, — Jane being now 
at Goodnestone and Cassandra at Godmersham. 
These visits in Kent were events of much impor- 
tance to them both, and considering the incon- 
veniences of travelling in those days, were of 

1 There is another Goodnestone in Kent, near Faver- 
sham, and about eight miles west of Canterbury. 



102 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

frequent occurrence. Goodnestone was the home 
of their relatives, the Bridges ; and Godmersnarn, 
as we are already aware, was the residence of their 
brother Edward. Both are in the immediate neigh- 
borhood of Canterbury, which city became almost 
if not quite as well known to Jane Austen as Win- 
chester, though perhaps not having quite as high a 
place in her affections, and certainly less definitely 
associated with her in our minds. The country 
around the city of Saint Augustine is most truly — 

" A land of hops and poppy-mingled corn ; " 

and through it all there wind in countless placid 
curves the clear waters of the Stour flowing north- 
ward through the gap in the low chalk downs at Wye 
to join the sea beyond the Sandwich bars. Inter- 
minable hop-fields spread themselves over the low- 
lying Kentish lands ; red- coned hop-kilns perk up 
their inquiring heads in every quarter ; and here 
and there windmills wave white, awkward arms 
beseechingly. 

Fifteen miles south of Canterbury is the town of 
Ashford, above whose clustered roofs rises the 
great tower of the ancient church dedicated to 
Saint Mary. It is now a place of much importance 
as a railway centre ; but a century ago it was a 
nucleus of social life for eastern Kent, and the Ash- 
ford balls were frequently attended by the Austen 
sisters in the course of their Kentish visits. If 
one follows the Stour four or five miles northward 
from the stone bridge at Ashford, one finds upon 



VISITS IN KENT. 



103 



its banks at the foot of Wye Down the village of 
Wye, but little larger now than when the Aus- 
tens knew it. Not far from the railway station can 
be seen the low square tower of St. Lawrence's 
Church at Godmersham, and near at hand the 
woods and pleasure-grounds of Godmersham Park, 
shut off from the roadway by a high wall. Chalk 
downs slope upward to the west beyond God- 
mersham House ; and through the eastern portion 
of the park runs the Stour. Chilham Park and 
Castle to the north, and Eastwell Park to the south, 
both of them frequently visited by Cassandra and 
Jane, are neither of them far distant or much be- 
yond the limits of an easy walk ; and following up 
the windings of the Stour beyond the downs of 
Chartham, one sees the vast grey bulk of the cathe- 
dral lifting itself above the many crdw T ding red 
roofs of Canterbury. It is a fair country. Cer- 
tainly there is no lovelier region in eastern Kent 
than the valley of the Stour, which in the course 
of her repeated visits became as familiar to Jane 
Austen as were " England's Florence " beside the 
Avon, the long roll of the Hampshire downs, or 
the level meads of the Itchen from Winchester 
to Southampton. 

The life in Kent was at all seasons one many 
times removed from dulness or monotony ; and the 
sisters never seem to have wanted for abundant 
occupation in the course of their visits. The large 
households at Godmersham and Goodnestone pre- 
sented many absorbing interests : and there were 



104 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

countless excursions to Canterbury and Ashford, 
varied by brief visits among the neighboring gentry. 
It is on Jane's return from one of these during this 
summer that she writes thus : — 

" Our visit to Eastwell was very agreeable ; I found 
Ly. Gordon's manners as pleasing as they had been 
described, and saw nothing to dislike in Sir Janison, 
excepting once or twice a sort of sneer at Mrs. Anne 
Finch." 

During this month of August an important topic 
in Kent seems to have been a prospective grand 
ball at Deal, which the Austens, being in mourn- 
ing, of course did not expect to attend, but which 
they evidently could not help hearing much of. 
Jane, who was still at Goodnestone with the 
Bridges, succeeded in persuading her friend Harriet 
Bridges to accept an invitation to the ball, which 
was to take place on the Friday of her own return 
to Godmersham. The Hattons from Eastwell 
were to take Miss Bridges ; but Jane appears to 
have feared that this part of the plan might fail, 
for she tells Cassandra, — 

" I am anxious on the subject, from the fear of 
being in the way if they do not come to give Harriot 1 a 
conveyance. I proposed and pressed being sent home 
on Thursday to prevent the possibility of being in the 
wrong place, but Harriot would not hear of it." 

As it happened, the news of the death of the 
Duke of Gloucester, brother to George the Third, 

1 It must be admitted that my beloved great-aunt was a 
careless speller. — Lord Brabourne. 



VISITS IN KENT. IO g 

was received before the letter was completed ; and 
the public mourning for that event of course put an 
end to the expected festivities at Deal. Still the 
account of the preparations for the ball is not with- 
out an interest for us, in the additional evidence it 
affords of the unselfish disposition of Jane Austen, 
and her willingness to put aside all considerations 
of a personal nature whenever the convenience or 
happiness of another was concerned. 



VII. 

REMOVAL TO SOUTHAMPTON ; LIFE AND 
SOCIETY THERE; VISIT IN KENT. 

IN Lord Brabourne's pleasant, gossipy introduc- 
tion to the published letters of his illustrious 
great-aunt, after mentioning the removal of the 
Austens from Bath, he observes, " I do not know 
why the family chose Southampton as their next 
residence ; " and Mr. Austen- Leigh, recording the 
same event, makes no comment whatever on any 
supposed reasons for the change. As there are no 
existing letters or family records dating from this 
period, we can account for the Austens' choice only 
inferentially ; but some little knowledge of the 
Southampton of a century ago, as compared with 
the busy seaport of to-day, will perhaps aid us 
slightly in the matter. 

It was not far from the year 1750 that South- 
ampton came into notice as a watering-place, with 
fashionable lodging-houses and a well-defined 
"season." In 1767 the Public Assembly Rooms 
on the West Quay were built, and a Master of Cere- 
monies held sway in the ball-room, of late years 
used as a drill-hall, and now fast falling into decay. 
What Brighton was to be soon after was faintly 






REMOVAL TO SOUTHAMPTON. 



107 



shadowed forth in the Southampton of the early- 
years of the reign of George the Good ; but the 
exclusively fashionable people were not suffered to 
have things all their own way. It began to be dis- 
covered that the small provincial borough possessed 
unmistakable advantages as a health resort ; and at 
the close of the eighteenth century its relation to 
the rest of England was not very different from that 
held now by such places as Torquay and Bourne- 
mouth on the southern coast, and Ventnor and 
Bonchurch on the Isle of Wight. But it was not 
for long that it held this place. In 1803 an 
Act of Parliament was passed for making docks 
and extending the quays at Southampton. In 
1820 the first steamer made her way along South- 
ampton Water and the Solent ; and Southampton 
the watering-place ceased to be, while South- 
ampton the thriving seaport began existence in 
its stead. 

At the time, however, when Mrs. Austen and her 
daughters left Bath, Southampton was a quiet sea- 
side watering-place much affected by those in search 
of health, but becoming each year less and less 
the resort of fashionable idlers. We know that 
the state of Mrs. Austen's health had often been a 
source of anxiety to her children ; and it seems to 
me exceedingly probable that the beneficial climate 
of Southampton was not without influence in the 
family considerations, and that the place was se- 
lected for their residence very largely on their 
mother's account. 



108 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Then, too, they were quite as likely to meet with 
congenial people here as at Bath ; and furthermore, 
their new location was a very convenient one in 
some respects, as it brought them nearer to their 
Kentish relatives, while it did not remove them 
from the circle of their Hampshire friends. Per- 
haps also the near vicinity of Portsmouth was 
reckoned by them as an advantage, since whenever 
the naval members of the family were ordered to 
report at Portsmouth, it was very easy for the sons 
to visit their mother, who was so close at hand ; and 
as it happened, for a portion of the Austens' resi- 
dence in Southampton Capt. Francis Austen and 
his wife made part of the family. 

At what time in the autumn the move was 
made is not known ; but before the close of 
1805 it had been a feat some time since accom- 
plished. Their new home is thus described by Mr. 
Austen- Leigh : — 

" My grandmother's house had a pleasant garden, 
bounded on one side by the old city walls ; the top of 
this was sufficiently wide to afford a pleasant walk 
with an extensive view, easily accessible by steps." 

Of this garden we hear something more in Jane's 
letters, for on Feb. 8, 1807, she writes to her 
sister that — 

" Our garden is putting in order by a man who bears 
a remarkably good character, has a very fine com- 
plexion, and asks something less than the first. The 
shrubs which border the gravel walk, he says, are 



REMOVAL TO SOUTHAMPTON. 



109 



only sweetbrier and roses, the latter of an indifferent 
sort ; we mean to get a few of a better kind, therefore, 
and at my own particular desire he procures us some 
syringas. I could not do without a syringa, for the sake 
of Cowper's line. We talk also of a laburnum. The 
border under the terrace wall is clearing away to re- 
ceive currants and gooseberry bushes; and a spot is 
found very proper for raspberries." 

The "pleasant garden' of Mr. Austen- Leigh's 
recollections, which his aunt heard called "the 
best in town," has long had existence in memory 
only ; and where it once was is a spot now so 
squalid and forlorn that it is difficult to realize 
that it was ever anything else. Little but the name 
is left of the Castle Square which was the abode of 
the Austens for four years. Leading from the west- 
ern side of the broad High Street, close to and be- 
low the ancient and massive Bar Gate spanning 
the roadway with its Norman arches, is the narrow 
alley called Castle Lane, which furnishes the most 
direct approach to the square from the east ; and 
along this the Austens must have passed daily. A 
fragment of the old wail of the castle, closely 
hemmed in by other structures, may still be seen 
on the upper side of the lane, which is but a short 
one, ending in a small triangular plot of open 
ground, dusty and turfless, and wholly within the 
horse- shoe curve described by the castle walls, 
and originally the base court of the castle. Sev- 
eral streets lead from this square, one to the south 
ascending a small rise of ground and terminating 



no JANE AUSTEN S LIFE. 

after a short curve at the door of a large stone 
building now called Zion Hall, and used as a Salva- 
tion Array hall. On this spot once stood the singu- 
lar castellated house of the Marquis of Lansdowne, 
the most pretentious dwelling in that neighborhood. 
It was taken down about the year 1810; and its 
absence makes it difficult to imagine, as Mr. Austen- 
Leigh remarks, how so large a building as it evi- 
dently was could have stood in so contracted a 
space. The ground it occupied was once some 
ten or twelve feet higher, and formed a mound 
crowned by the castle keep in the days when 
Henry the Fifth embarked at Southampton for the 
invasion of France. 

What must have been a very familiar sight in 
Jane Austen's daily life at Castle Square is thus 
narrated by her nephew : — 

" The Marchioness had alight phaeton, drawn by six, 
and sometimes by eight, little ponies, each pair decreas- 
ing in size, and becoming lighter in color through all the 
grades of dark brown, light brown, bay, and chestnut, 
as it was placed farther away from the carriage. The 
two leading pairs were managed by two boyish postil- 
ions ; the two pairs nearest to the carriage were driven 
in hand. It was a delight to me to look down from 
the window and see this fairy equipage put together; 
for the premises of the castle were so contracted that 
the whole process went on in the little space that re- 
mained of the open square." 

Westward of Castle Square and close at hand is 
the battlemented line of the city walls with a road- 



REMOVAL TO SOUTHAMPTOX. m 

way along the parapet ; and from here a flight of 
forty steps leads down to a broad modern esplanade 
at the waterside. Below the square to the south- 
west, approached by a narrow squalid street, and 
facing the West Quay, is a long stretch of the city 
wall, with a fine Edwardian arcade along its front. 
Opposite this at one point is the time-worn wooden 
structure before mentioned, the fashionable As- 
sembly Room in the middle and later Georgian 
period. 

The neighborhood of Castle Square is not an 
agreeable one in our day, and must have steadily 
deteriorated for decade after decade till it became 
what it is now, — one of the city slums. No trace 
here remains of the Austen house, which, judging 
from Mr. Austen Leigh's account, must have been 
situated on the west side of the square, with its 
garden extending to the base of the battlemented 
wall already mentioned. All of the houses in the 
square present a mean and dingy appearance, and 
none of them would seem to be much over fifty 
years old ; and certainly none of them were in ex- 
istence in the Austens' time. Yet in spite of all 
the changes the lapse of years has made, one feature 
of the Castle Square of eighty years ago remains 
practically the same as then, the one, too, which 
must have been most dearly prized by the sisters, 
— the fair prospect the situation offers. 

Stand for a while on the parapet to which the 
Austen garden once reached. Below the walls to 
westward are the waters of the Test, no longer a 



U2 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

pretty, swiftly flowing trout stream, as at Stockbridge, 
miles away in North Hants, but an estuary a mile or 
two in breadth, and rapidly widening southward into 
Southampton Water. Across its rippling surface 
is seen the waving boscage of the great New Forest 
in full view. Along the Test the many sails show 
white as the wings of the screaming gulls that fly 
above it. Perhaps it is toward evening ; and the 
broad Test burns in the glow of the sun, that is 
poised just above the New Forest trees, behind 
which it glides a few moments later ; or it is early 
morning, and the walls of the castle throw long 
dark wavering shadows halfway across the river, 
but beyond these shadows the sails redden, and the 
skies above the New Forest glow with a pale reflex 
of the eastern light. Or it may be that a low- 
lying fog cuts off from view the farther shore ; or 
the Test is ruffled by flaws or passing showers, or 
foam- crested in the face of a western gale ; or the 
full tide, " glazed with muffled moonlight," covers 
all the sands, and swings in long slow undulations 
from the castle walls to the New Forest shores. 
Just such scenes as these one may see from time 
to time from the old base court of the castle ; and 
just such sights Jane Austen saw from her garden in 
the same base court more than a lifetime ago. It 
grows very easy to comprehend her liking for 
Southampton when one has such views before him, 
and remembers the lovely old-time garden from 
which they could once have been witnessed. 
How readily the family adjusted themselves to 



LIFE AT SOU THA MP TO h r . j^ 

their new residence, and how the change was at 
first enjoyed by them all, we know nothing defi- 
nitely, since there is no correspondence existing for 
the year 1806, and the memoir has nothing to add 
in regard to it. Indeed, from the 30th of August, 
1805, there is a break in the correspondence until 
Jan. 7, 1807 ; and at this time, when we regain 
certain intelligence of the family movements, Cas- 
sandra is visiting at Godmersham, while Jane- is 
keeping house for her mother and entertaining 
her brother James and his wife, who had come 
from Steventon for a short visit. Besides Mrs. 
George Austen and Jane, the family circle now 
comprised Capt. Francis Austen and his wife, 
and Miss Martha Lloyd, the sister-in-law of James 
Austen. To a certain extent the cares of the 
household were shared by Miss Lloyd and Mrs. 
Francis Austen ; but the practical direction of it 
all must have been the province of Jane when her 
elder sister was from home. Housekeeping does not 
seem to have been particularly liked by her, perhaps 
from the conscientious fear that she was not com- 
petent to fill her sister's place, or the thought that 
she was not doing enough for the comfort of those 
for whom she was caring. Such an inference as 
this last at any rate may be drawn, I think, from 
such passages as the following in the first letter 
of 1807 : — 

" When you receive this, our guests will be gone or 
going; and I shall be left to the comfortable disposal 
of my time, to ease of mind from the torments of 



114 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

rice puddings and apple dumplings, and probably to re- 
gret that I did not take more pains to please them all. 
" Captain Foote dined with us on Friday, and I 
fear will not soon venture again ; for the strength of 
our dinner was a boiled leg of mutton, underdone even 
for James, and Captain Foote has a particular dislike to 
underdone mutton ; but he was so good-humored and 
pleasant that I did not much mind his being starved." 

We hear much of Francis Austen in the three 
letters written during the winter of 1807. 

" Frank's going into Kent," his sister writes in Feb- 
ruary, '"' depends, of course, upon his being unem- 
ployed ; but as the First Lord, after promising Lord 
Moira that Captain A. should have the first good 
frigate that was vacant, has since given away two or 
three fine ones, he has no particular reason to expect 
an appointment now." 

A line or two farther on we hear that " Frank 
has got a very bad cough for an Austen ; but it 
does not disable him from making very nice 
fringe for the drawing-room window-curtains." 

A trifling item enough, but one which shows the 
future admiral's aversion to anything like idleness, 
— an aversion shared by his brothers and sisters 
also. That Jane was not the only member of the 
family who relied upon Cassandra's judgment is 
shown in the following allusion to Captain Austen 
and his wife : — 

" Frank and Mary cannot at all approve of your not 
being at home in time to help them in their finishing 
purchases, and desire me to say that if you are not, 
they will be as spiteful as possible, and choose every- 



SOCIETY IN SOUTHAMPTON. n 5 

thing in the style most likely to vex you, — knives 
that will not cut, glasses that will not hold, a sofa 
without a seat, and a bookcase without shelves." 



The Austens appear to have had by this time 
many acquaintances in Southampton, and by no 
means to have wanted for society, feeling obliged 
to decline, in fact, a number of proffered civilities. 
In this connection Jane writes at the opening of 
1807,— 

" Our acquaintance increase too fast. He [ Frank J 
was recognized lately by Admiral Bertie; and a few days 
since arrived the Admiral and his daughter Catherine 
to wait upon us. There was nothing to like or dislike 
in either. To the Berties are to be added the Lances, 
with whose cards we have been endowed, and whose 
visit Frank and I returned yesterday. They live about 
a mile and three quarters from S., to the right of the 
new road to Portsmouth ; and I believe their house 
is one of those which are to be seen almost anywhere 
among the woods on the other side of the Itchen. It is 
a handsome building, stands high, and in a very beauti- 
ful situation. We found only Mrs. Lance at home, and 
whether she boasts any offspring beside a grand piano- 
forte did not appear. She was civil and chatty enough, 
and offered to introduce us to some acquaintance in 
Southampton, which we gratefully declined. 

" I suppose they must be acting by the orders of 
Mr. Lance of Netherton in this civility, as there seems 
no other reason for their coming near us They will 
not come often, I dare say. They live in a handsome 
style, and are rich, and she seemed to like to be rich; 
and we gave her to understand that we were far from 
being so. She will soon feel, therefore, that we are not 
worth her acquaintance." 



Il6 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

In the quiet passing notice of the rich woman who 
" seemed to like to be rich," it is easy to recog- 
nize the same hand which gave us so many briefly 
comprehensive characterizations in the pages of 
" Emma " and " Mansfield Park." 

In the letters of this winter are a number of al- 
lusions to books of the day, — references which are 
not without interest for the light they throw upon 
Miss Austen's preferences in such matters : — 

" ' Alphonsine ' did not do. We were disgusted in 
twenty' pages, as, independent of a bad translation, it 
has indelicacies which disgrace a pen hitherto so pure ; 
and we changed it for the ' Female Quixote/ \ which 
now makes our evening amusement to me a very high 
one, as I find the work quite equal to what I re- 
membered it- Mrs. F. A., to whom it is quite new, 
enjoys it as much as one could wish ; the other Mary, 2 
I believe, has little pleasure from that or any other 
book. 

" We are reading • Clarentine, ' 3 and are surprised 
to find how foolish it is I remember liking it much 
less on a second reading than at the first; and it does 
not bear a third at all. It is full of unnatural conduct 
and forced difficulties, without striking merit of any 
kind. 

" I recommend Mrs. Grant's letters as a present. 
What they are about, and how many volumes they 
form, I do not know, having never heard of them but 

1 " The Female Quixote,'' a novel by Charlotte Lenox, 
was first published in 1752. 

2 The wife of James Austen. 

3 A novel by Sarah Harriet Burney, half-sister to Madame 
d'Arblay, published in 1796. 



A YOUNG VISITOR. 



II 7 



from Miss Irvine, who speaks of them as a new and 
highly admired work, and as one which has pleased 
her highly. I have inquired for the book here, but 
find it quite unknown." 

The book herein referred to is without doubt 
" Letters from the Mountains," by Mrs. Anne 
Grant of Laggan, which was published in 1806, 
and enjoyed a considerable share of popularity for 
a time, though at present she is best remembered 
by a subsequent work, " Memoirs of an American 
Lady." 

In the second of the letters written during this 
winter, mention is made of a young girl who spent 
an afternoon at the Austens', and with whom Jane 
seems to have been much pleased. 

" The morning was so wet that I was afraid we 
should not be able to see our little visitor, but Frank, 
who alone could go to church, called for her after 
service; and she is now talking away at my side, and 
examining the treasures of my writing-desk drawers,— 
very happy, I believe; not at all shy, of course 
. . . What is become of all the shyness in the world ? 
Moral as well as natural diseases disappear in the 
progress of time; and new ones take their place. 
Shyness and the sweating sickness have given way to 
confidence and paralytic complaints. . . . Evening. — 
Our little visitor has just left us, and left us highly 
pleased with her , she is a nice, natural, open-hearted, 
affectionate girl, with all the ready civility which one 
sees in the best children in the present day ; so unlike 
anything that I was myself at her age that I am often 
all astonishment and shame." 



n8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Popular as Jane Austen always was with those of 
her own age, she was even enthusiastically admired 
by children ; and in many little ways she uncon- 
sciously betrays the secret of their fondness for 
her. For the time being she made their interests 
hers, and treated them with the same gentle con- 
sideration she accorded their elders. She does 
not appear to have ever been so occupied as to 
find their presence an annoyance, or ever to have 
fancied it undignified to join them in their amuse- 
ments or to provide them with diversions when 
their own resources failed. Part of this came no 
doubt from her own strong natural love for children ; 
but still more, I think, proceeded from an intuitive 
perception of each child's individuality, which en- 
abled her to adapt herself to their varying natures 
and thus win their hearts by respecting their sepa- 
rate personalities. She allowed them to see that 
their pursuits were not looked upon by her as in any 
sense trifling ; and in return they gave her an un- 
stinted affection. The wide circle of nephews 
and nieces always found in " Aunt Jane " a ready 
sharer in all their joys and sorrows ; and the other 
children whom she knew experienced from her 
much of the same appreciative kindness. 

In June of 1808, Jane, in company with the Stev- 
enton Austens (her brother James, his wife, and two 
children), paid one of her many visits to Godmer- 
sham, while Cassandra remained at Southampton ; 
and the four letters which tell all that we definitely 
know of this summer in her life were written from 



AT GODMERSHAM. 



119 



Godmersham in this month. The characteristic 
family affection existing between the various Austens 
is more than usually observable in those letters. On 
their way to Kent the party had stopped in London 
to visit Henry Austen, who had not been well ; and 
Cassandra is now informed of his improved health. 
Francis was at this time on board the " St. Albans," 
anchored near the end of June off the Kentish coast ; 
and we hear that Henry meditates a trip from Lon- 
don in order to see his brother Frank, in which 
case Jane hopes for a peep at him in Godmersham. 
The two oldest brothers, James and Edward, ap- 
pear to be nearly inseparable during this visit. At 
one time they go together for a day at Sandling 
Park, then, as now, the home of the Deedes family, 
and at that period much admired for the beauty of 
its mansion, built a few years before ; at another 
they are setting off for Canterbury together ; while 
their walks in each other's company about God- 
mersham are very many. The writer's own greet- 
ing from her brother's family is dwelt upon with 
unmistakable delight : — 

" Elizabeth, 1 who was dressing when we arrived, 
came to me for a minute, attended by Marianne, 
Charles, and Louisa, and, you will not doubt, gave me 
a very affectionate welcome. That 1 had received such 
from Edward also I need not mention; but I do, you 
see, because it is a pleasure." 

Reading this last line, one is irresistibly reminded 
of George Eliot's pathetic confession in one of her 

1 The wife of Edward Austen. 



120 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

letters, " I like not only to be loved, but to be told 
that I am loved." 

Something of the same desire for expressions of 
tenderness was a part of the nature of this other 
woman, who differed in so many ways from the great 
novelist of our time, but who could not forbear 
telling of the affectionate welcome from her 
brother " because it was a pleasure." They loved 
one another very dearly, these brothers and sisters, 
and they were not ashamed to own the fact. 

It must have been a lively, joyous family party 
at Godmersham in that far-off June. The two 
brothers, as we know, were constantly in each 
other's society ; their wives and Jane were equally 
happy in their own ; while the ten children of Ed- 
ward, or such a proportion of them as had escaped 
the tyranny of long clothes, were, it is safe to say, 
delighted with the visit of Edward and Caroline, 
the children of their uncle James. Fanny, the 
oldest of the Godmersham children, was now a 
girl of fifteen. She was then, and always remained, 
a favorite with her aunt Jane, who tells Cassandra 
in the first letter that their niece " is grown both in 
height and size since last year, but not immoder- 
ately, looks very well, and seems as to conduct and 
manner just what she was and what one would 
wish her to continue." 

It was to this niece that Cassandra Austen be- 
queathed her sister Jane's letters at the time of her 
death in 1845. T ne niece was then Lady Knatch- 
bull, the mother of Lord Brabourne, whose fairy 



REVEREND AUSTEX-LEIGH 121 

tales have delighted a whole generation of young 
readers. She survived till 1882, and soon after 
that date the letters left her by her aunt Cassandra 
were given to the world by Lord Brabourne. 

" Little Edward," who was one of Jane's favor- 
ite nephews, and the eldest son of her brother 
James, was now a lad of ten, From his relatives, 
the Leigh Perrots, he inherited the estate of Scarlets 
in Berkshire in maturer life, at which epoch he 
added the name of Leigh to his own. At past 
seventy, when he had been the Reverend Austen- 
Leigh for many years, he published the first ex- 
tended life of his gifted aunt which had ever 
appeared. This was in 1869; an ^ hi s death oc- 
curred five years after, in 1874. One of his sons, 
Augustus Austen-Leigh, is the present Provost of 
King's College, Cambridge. 

A photograph before me of the Reverend Mr. 
Austen- Leigh, in which may be traced consid- 
erable resemblance to the Austens, represents 
him as a benignant, kindly old gentleman of sixty 
or more years. There are many references to him 
in the chronicle of this visit. " His uncle Edward 
talks nonsense to him delightfully, more than he 
can always understand," Jane writes in one place ; 
and the last letter closes with the item, " Little 
Edward is quite well again." 

But these were not the only two young mem- 
bers of the household who occupied their aunt 
Jane's thoughts ; allusions to the more juvenile 
ones are frequent, and, to one who does not 



122 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

follow closely the details of the family history, 
somewhat confusing ; and even Aunt Cassandra, one 
would think, must sometimes have been at fault to 
establish the identity of every child mentioned, when 
the number was so large and the names not always 
dissimilar. But the loving Aunt Jane had no such 
difficulty ; and all the references were probably 
clearer than it might now seem to the only individ- 
ual she ever expected to read her letters. 

In the midst of the numberless bits of family 
details, all of which she knew would be of as much 
interest to her sister and mother as to herself, we 
come suddenly upon a passing reference to the 
chief literary event of 1808, — the appearance of 
" Marmion," a poem which at the time Jane wrote 
had been out but four months. She does not seem 
to have been so much impressed by the book as 
many of her contemporaries, and was not wanting 
in the courage of her opinions : " Ought I to be 
very much pleased with ' Marmion ' ? As yet I am 
not. James reads it aloud in the evening. — the 
short evening, beginning at about ten and broken 
by supper." 

As it turned out, however, she came to like the 
work better ere the end of the book was reached. 

In the last letter we find her expressing some 
wonder that her brother Frank's wife, then visiting 
on the Isle of Wight, did not show as much en- 
thusiastic impatience over her husband's return in 
the "St. Albans " as the affectionate sister naturally 
looked for: "When are calculations ever right? 



END OF THE VISIT IN KENT I2 $ 

I could have sworn that Mary must have heard 
of the ' St. Alban's ' return, and would have been 
wild to come home or to be doing something. 
Nobody ever feels or acts, suffers or enjoys, as 
one expects," — a discovery which the author of 
" Pride and Prejudice " has not remained singular 
in making. 

The happy Godmersham visit drew to its close 
early in July. It was already planned that Jane 
should return to Southampton on the 8th ; and in 
a postscript, added on July i, to her letter of the 
day before, we find her saying, — 

" In another week I shall be at home ; and there 
my having been at Godmersham will seem like a 
dream, as my visit at Brompton seems already. 

"The orange wine will want our care soon. But in 
the mean time, ior elegance and ease and luxury, the 
Hattons and Milles dine here to-day, and I shall eat 
ice and drink French wine, and be above vulgar 
economy Luckily the pleasures of friendship, of 
unreserved conversation, of similarity of taste and 
opinions, will make good amends for orange wine" 

There is one other allusion to the Brompton 
visit, but no clew is given as to the time it was 
made ; but it probably took place just previously to 
the Godmersham visit, as we know that Jane was in 
London on June 4, and arrived at her brother 
Edward's on the 14th, so that between these two 
dates there was sufficient opportunity for its occur- 
rence. The Brompton meant is in all likelihood 
the London suburb, and not the portion of Chatham 
in Kent which goes by that name. 



124 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

A short distance from Castle Square on the west 
side of the High Street at the corner of East 
Street is the Church of All Saints, a Grecian-fronted 
edifice with Ionic columns, which replaced, in 
1792, an old Norman church originally called All- 
Hallows. Of this church the Reverend Dr. Mant 
was rector from 1793101817; and during the time 
the Austens resided in Southampton they were his 
parishioners. The church is rather closer to Castle 
Square than that of St. Lawrence, and consider- 
ably nearer than either the ancient Holy Rood 
Church, or the still more venerable temple dedi- 
cated to Saint Michael, and was probably chosen 
as their parish church on account of its con- 
venient location, since Mrs. Austen could more 
frequently attend it than any other. Its appear- 
ance has changed very little since Jane Austen 
attended service there ; but the interest attaching 
to it in the eyes of the visitor can be little other 
than the fact that it was the church at which she 
worshipped, since, unlike St. Michael's, it has no 
antiquarian or architectural features to detain one. 
The church of her choice during her life in Bath 
is not known ; but that All- Saints was the one she 
frequented in Southampton may be considered as 
conclusively established, and it is to this church 
and its rector that allusion is made a few pages 
farther on. 

July and August of 1808 we may suppose the 
sisters to have passed in each other's company at 
Southampton ; but in September Cassandra was 



EVENINGS IN SOUTHAMPTON. 125 

again in Godmersham, and the correspondence 
was taken up once more. As usual, the absent 
sister is kept informed of the small events which 
went to make up the daily round of life at the 
Southampton home, — matters which Cassandra 
could doubtless have pretty accurately surmised 
for herself, but which she always found of absorb- 
ing interest when related in the younger sister's 
sprightly, gossipy style. How well the elder Miss 
Austen could parallel from her own recollections 
some such bit as this from Jane's letter of Octo- 
ber 1, as she smiled over the merry nonsense at 
its close ! — 

" Our party at Mrs. Duer's produced the novelties 
of two old Mrs. Pollens and Mrs. Hey wood, with whom 
my mother made a quadrille table ; and of Mrs Mait- 
land and Caroline, and Mr. Booth without his sisters, 
at commerce. I have got a husband for each of the 
Miss Maitlands. Colonel Powlett and his brother 
have taken Argyle's inner house ; and the consequence 
is so natural that I have no ingenuity in planning it. If 
the brother should luckily be a little sillier than the 
Colonel, what a treasure for Eliza ! " 

One of their evenings at home is described as 
follows : — 

" About an hour and a half after your toils on 
Wednesday ended, ours began. At seven o'clock, 
Mrs Harrison, her two daughters, and two visitors, 
with Mr. Debary and his eldest sister, walked in. 

"A second pool of commerce, and all the longer by 
the addition ot the two girls, who, during the first, had 
one corner of the table and spillikins to themselves, 



126 JANE AUSTEN'S LIEE. 

was the ruin of us ; it completed the prosperity of Mr. 
Debary, however, for he won them both. 

" Mr Harrison came late and sat by the fire, for 
which I envied him, as we had our usual luck of having 
a very cold evening. It rained when our company 
came, but was dry again before they left us. 

" The Miss Rallards are said to be remarkably well- 
informed ; their manners are unaffected and pleasing ; 
but they do not talk quite freely enough to be agreeable, 
nor can I discover any right they had by taste or feel- 
ing to go their late tour " 

Alas ! the Miss Ballards have had many succes- 
sors in tourists of a later day, whose tastes and 
feelings are far from commensurate with the mul- 
titude of advantages afforded for their cultivation. 

It would appear that about this time Mrs. George 
Austen had entertained some thoughts of leaving 
Southampton, for Jane writes that her mother was 
really expecting to move to Alton in East Hants, 
as the rent of their present house was becoming 
somewhat of a burden upon her income. " Mrs. 
Lyell's hundred and thirty guineas' rent have made 
a great impression," Jane observes in regard to 
her mother's state of mind. Before the end of Sep- 
tember, however, Mrs. Austen had begun to fancy 
it would be an excellent solution of her perplexities 
if she should remove to Wye in Kent, and thus be 
near to her son Edward at Godmersham. The 
sudden death of her daughter-in-law, the mistress 
of Godmersham, which occurred early in October, 
changed her plans very materially. Mr. Edward 
Austen after this event was desirous that his mother 



CHOICE OF NEW HOME 



127 



should be comfortably settled on one or the other 
of his estates, either in Kent or Hampshire, and 
accordingly offered her the choice of a home in 
either locality, — an offer which perhaps he could 
not conveniently make before, or which his recent 
sorrow made him realize the need of making. She 
selected Chawton Cottage on the Hampshire 
property, probably, as Lord Brabourne suggests, 
on account of her lifelong associations with that 
shire ; and thenceforth the family arrangements at 
Southampton were all made with reference to 
Chawton as their future home. 

The affliction which had befallen her brother 
was keenly felt by Jane, who had a strong regard 
for her sister-in-law ; and her letters at this time are 
full of the sad event : — 

" That you are for ever in our thoughts you will not 
doubt. I see your mournful party in my mind's eye 
under every varying circumstance of the day ; and in 
the evening especially, figure to myself its sad gloom : 
the efforts to talk, the frequent summons to melancholy 
orders and cares, and poor Edward, restless in misery, 
going from one room to another and perhaps not 
seldom upstairs, to see all that remains of his Eliza- 
beth. Dearest Fanny must now look upon herself as 
his prime source of comfort, his dearest friend ; as the 
being who is gradually to supply to him, to the extent 
that is possible, what he has lost." 

The hope expressed in the last sentence met 
with ample fulfilment ; and Lord Brabourne writes 
that " from that moment my mother took charge 



128 JANE AUSTEN S LIFE. 

of the family, watched over her brothers and sisters, 
was her father's right hand and mainstay, and 
proved herself as admirable in that position as 
afterwards in her married life." 

It was of this same niece, who, at fifteen, took 
up so bravely the burden which had been her 
mother's, no light yoke to bear in a house where ten 
children had to be taken care of, that her aunt Jane 
had written a few days before the bereavement : 

" I am greatly pleased with your account of Fanny, 
I found her in the summer just what you describe,— 
almost another sister, — and could not have supposed 
that a niece would ever have been so much to me. 
She is quite after one's own heart ; give her my best 
love, and tell her that I always think of her with 
pleasure." 

The tender heart that felt so deeply for her 
brother in his great sorrow could not fail to go out 
in sympathy toward the little ones in their grief: 
" Your account of Lizzy is very interesting. Poor 
child ! One must hope the impression will be 
strong ; and yet one's heart aches for a dejected 
mind of eight years old." 

Two of Edward's sons were at Winchester 
College at this time, and being excused from 
school duties on account of their affliction, spent 
a few days at their grandmother's in Southampton. 
Their aunt Jane seems to have devoted herself to 
their entertainment and to have done all in her 
power to lighten the weight of their common 
sorrow. She tells Cassandra, — 



NEPHEWS OF JANE AUSTEN. I2 g 

" They behave extremely well in every respect, show- 
ing quite as much feeling as one wishes to see, and on 
every occasion speaking of their father with the liveliest 
affection. His letter was read over by each of them 
yesterday, and with many tears. George sobbed aloud ; 
Edward's tears do not flow so easily. . . . George is 
almost a new acquaintance to me ; and I find him in a 
different way as engaging as Edward. 

" We do not want amusement : bilbocatch, at which 
George is indefatigable, spillikins, paper ships, riddles, 
conundrums, and cards, with watching the flow and 
ebb of the river, and now and then a stroll out, keep us 
well employed. . . I hope your sorrowing party were 
at church yesterday, and have no longer that to dread. 
. . . / weiit with my two nephews j and I saw 
Edward was much affected by the sermon, which, 
indeed, I could have supposed p?irposely addressed to 
the afflicted, if the text had not naturally come in the 
course of Dr. Mant's observations on the Litany. 
1 All that are in danger, necessity, or tribulation,' was 
the subject of it The weather did not allow us 
afterwards to get farther than the quay, where George 
was very happy as long as we could stay, flying about 
from one side to the other, and skipping on board a 
collier immediately 

" In the evening we had the Psalms and Lessons, 
and a sermon at home, to which they were very 
attentive ; but you will not expect to hear that they 
did not return to conundrums the moment it was 
over. . . . 

"While I write now, George is most industriously 
making and naming paper ships, at which he after- 
wards shoots with horse-chestnuts, brought from 
Steventon on purpose; and Edward, equally intent 
over the ' Lake of Killarney,' twisting himself about in 
one of the great chairs. . . . Tuesday. — We had a 
9 



130 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

little water party yesterday: I and my two nephews 
went from the Itchen Ferry up to Northam, 1 where 
we landed, looked into the 74, and walked home ; and it 
was so much enjoyed that I had intended to take them 
to Netley 2 to-day. The tide is just right for our going 
immediately after moonshine; but I am afraid there 
will be rain. If we cannot get so far, however, we may 
perhaps go round from the ferry to the quay. 

" I had not proposed doing more than cross the 
Itchen yesterday ; but it proved so pleasant, and so 
much to the satisfaction of all, that when we reached 
the middle of the stream, we agreed to be rowed up the 
river. Both the boys rowed great part of the way ; and 
their questions and remarks, as well as their enjoy- 
ment, were very amusing. George's enquiries were 
endless ; and his eagerness in everything reminds me 
often of his uncle Henry. 

" Our evening was equally agreeable in its way : I 
introduced speculation, and it was so much approved 
that we hardly knew how to leave off." 

I think there are few episodes in Jane Austen's 
life over which it is pleasanter to linger in thought 
than this, in which we see her giving up day after day 
to the diversion of these two bright boys to whom 
their first great sorrow had. come so early. True 
enough, she enjoyed their company and loved to 
have them with her ; but it is not to be supposed 
that she had no other cares to occupy her at this 
time. Nevertheless, her other duties seem to have 
been quietly laid aside just then in the face of the 

1 One of the suburbs of Southampton. 

2 Netley Abbey is distant from Southampton between two 
and three miles eastward. 



NEPHEWS OF JANE AUSTEN. I3 i 

one she regarded as the most imperative. I like to 
summon up before me the pretty picture the little 
company must have made rowing up the peaceful 
Itchen, — not the busy stream it is now, with steam 
ferry-bridges constantly plying between the city and 
its growing suburb of Woolston, but a quiet stretch 
of water vexed only by the ferry, which was a 
thousand years old in their day, and by the 
pleasure-boats belonging to the wealthy owners 
of the villas on its eastern side. One may be very 
sure that the two boys found an excellent comrade 
in their handsome aunt, — one who would hear all 
their questions in smiling patience, praise their 
skill in rowing, and perhaps now and then take an 
oar herself when they urged her to do so. 

The older of the lads survived his aunt for 
more than sixty years ; and the younger, who is 
described by Lord Brabourne as " one of those 
men who are clever enough to do almost anything, 
but live to their lives' end very comfortably doing 
nothing," outlived her by half a century. Her 
observation that he reminded her of his uncle 
Henry shows something of her penetration in re- 
gard to character, for Henry Austen, who was most 
undeniably clever, perhaps in some respects the 
most brilliant member of his family, can hardly be 
said to have accomplished much more in his own 
long life than to have lived comfortably and en- 
joyed himself. Till middle life he was always full 
of eager interest in plans which ultimately proved 
abortive ; and the same enthusiasm which at last 



132 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

faded into complacent acceptance of life's easier 
conditions found its subsequent counterpart in his 
nephew, whose " enquiries were endless," but w r ho 
in all his life, according to Lord Brabourae, " did 
nothing worthy of mention." One thing at least 
Jane Austen's early death secured her from, — the 
pain of seeing this beloved nephew, "ittle Dordy," 
as she sometimes styles him, renew the disappoint- 
ment she must have continually felt, though it 
but seldom found utterance, in regard to her 
brother Henry. 

As winter drew near, a visit from Henry Austen 
was looked forward to by the Southampton family ; 
and Jane writes, — 

" Our brother we may perhaps see in the course of a 
few days; and we mean to take the opportunity of his 
help to go one night to the play. Martha 1 ought to 
see the inside of the theatre once while she lives 
in Southampton ; and I think she will hardly wish to 
take a second view." 

From this we may infer that the presentation of 
the drama in Southampton eighty or ninety years 
ago left much to be desired. In a letter of 
December this same year, we find Jane expressing 
much pleasure in the possession of a new pair of 
bracelets ; and following this are several passages 
so strongly characteristic of the writer in her gayest 
mood that I make no apology for transcribing them 
almost entire. 

1 Martha Lloyd, afterward the second wife of Francis 
Austen. 



BALL AT SOUTHAMPTON. 



*33 



" Soon after I had closed my last letter to you, we 
were visited by Mrs. Dickens and her sister-in-law, 
Mrs. Bertie, the wife of a lately made admiral Mrs. 
F. A., 1 I believe, was their first object, but they put 
up with us very kindly. . . . Mrs D. seems a really 
agreeable woman; that is, her manners are gentle, 
and she knows a great many of our connections in 
West Kent. Mrs. Bertie lives in the Polygon, and 
was out when we returned her visit, which are her 
two virtues. 

" A larger circle of acquaintance and an increase of 
amusement is quite in character with our approaching 
removal. Yes, I mean to go to as many balls as pos- 
sible, that I may have a good bargain. Everybody 
is very much concerned at our going away ; and every- 
body is acquainted with Chawton, and speaks of it as 
a remarkably pretty village ; and everybody knows the 
house we describe, but nobody fixes on the right. 

" I am very much obliged to Mrs. Knight for such a 
proof of the interest she takes in me ; and she may de- 
pend on it that I will marry Mr. Papillon, whatever 
may be his reluctance or my own. I owe her much 
more than such a trifling sacrifice. 

" Our ball was rather more amusing than I expected. 
Martha liked it very much; and I did not gape till the 
last quarter of an hour. It was past nine before we 
were sent for, and not twelve when we returned. The 
room was tolerably full; and there were perhaps 
thirty couple of dancers. The melancholy part was 
to see so many dozen young women standing by with- 
out partners, and each of them with two ugly naked 
shoulders. 

" It was the same room in which we danced fifteen 

1 Mrs. Francis Austen, who had just left Southampton 
with her husband. 



I34 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

years ago. I thought it all over, and in spite of the 
shame of being so much older, felt with thankfulness 
that I was quite as happy now as then. We paid an 
additional shilling for our tea, which we took as we 
chose in an adjoining and very comfortable room. 

" There were only four dances, and it went to my 
heart that the Miss Lances ( one of them, too, named 
Emma) should have partners only for two. You will 
not expect to hear that / was asked to dance ; but I 
was — by the gentleman we met that Sunday with 
Captain d'Auvergne. We have always kept up a 
bowing acquaintance since; and being pleased with his 
black eyes, I spoke to him at the ball, which brought 
on me this civility ; but I do not know his name, and 
he seems so little at home in the English language that 
I believe his black eyes may be the best of him." 

At the close of 1808 James Austen, who had now 
been rector of Steventon for nearly eight years, re- 
ceived a very acceptable addition to his stipend in 
the gift of ^100 a year from his uncle and aunt at 
Bath, — Mr. and Mrs. Leigh Perrot ; and this event, 
like every other piece of good fortune which befell 
her five brothers, gave Jane great pleasure. 

" We have now pretty well ascertained James's in- 
come to be eleven hundred pounds, curate paid, which 
makes us very happy, — the ascertainment as well as 
the income." 

In the last letter of 1808 mention is incidentally 
made of an elderly spinster of uncertain temper, 
whose company was in general very little desired, 
but whose friendlessness excited a sincere touch of 



C1MRITABLE ESTIMATES. 



J 35 



sympathy in the cheerful happy woman whose 
society no one could have too much of. 

"Our evening party on Thursday produced nothing 
more remarkable than Miss Murden s coming too, 
though she had declined it absolutely in the morning, 
and sitting very ungracious and very silent with us 
from seven o clock till half after eleven." 

This is written on Tuesday, but on Wednesday we 
hear that — 

" Miss Murden was quite a different creature this 
last evening from what she had been before, owing to 
her having with Martha's help found a situation in the 
morning, which bids very fair for comfort. When she 
leaves Steventon, she comes to board and lodge with 
Mrs. Hookey, the chemist, — for there is no Mr 
Hookey. I cannot say that I am in any hurry for the 
conclusion of her present visit, but I was truly glad to 
see her comfortable in mind and spirits ; at her age 
perhaps one may be as friendless oneself, and in 
similar circumstances quite as captious." 

It was characteristic of Jane Austen to be able 
to perceive that people often become disagreeable 
from causes to a great extent beyond their con- 
trol ; and she judged human failings accordingly. 
It was this spirit of gentle tolerance which once 
made her say of a very tiresome old lady of her 
acquaintance, — 

" Poor Mrs. Stent ! it has been her lot to be always 
in the way ; but we must be merciful, for perhaps in 
time we may come to be Mrs. Stents ourselves, un- 
equal to anything and unwelcome to everybody " 



136 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

There are fewer references at this period to 
Charles Austen, who was then at Bermuda, than 
usual in her correspondence ; but there is one 
which is worth quotation for its affectionate sisterly 
extravagance of phrase, — 

" I must write to Charles next week. You may 
guess in what extravagant terms Earle Harwood 
speaks of him. He is looked up to by everybody 
in all America." 

As the weeks go on, the preparations and plans for 
the new home in Chawton find an important place 
in Jane's communications, as, for instance : — 

14 Yes, yes, we will have a pianoforte, as good a one 
as can be got for thirty guineas ; and I will practise 
country-dances, that we may have some amusement for 
our nephews and nieces when we have the pleasure of 
their company." 

What w T onder that such an aunt was popular 
with nieces and nephews ! At Chawton House I 
saw in the summer of 1889 a volume of dance 
music in manuscript, the careful handiwork of the 
two sisters ; so we may believe that Jane's kindly in- 
tentions were carried into effect, and indeed Mr. 
Austen- Leigh makes mention that at Chawton she 
practised daily, and usually before breakfast. 

In the midst of her last winter at Southampton, 
busied with household cares and social engagements 
not a few, she still had time to keep up at least a par- 
tial acquaintance with the literature of the day, for 
we find her writing thus of one of Lady Morgan's 



LADY MORGAN'S NOVELS. j^ 

early books, " Woman ; or, Ida of Athens," which 
was published at the beginning of 1809. 

" To set against your new novel, of which nobody 
ever heard before, and perhaps never may again, 
we have got * Ida of Athens,' by Miss Owenson, 
which must be very clever, because it was written, as 
the authoress says, in three months. We have only 
read the preface yet; but her 'Irish Girl' 1 does not 
make me expect much. If the warmth of her lan- 
guage could affect the body, it might be worth reading 
in this weather." 

Who now has leisure to read Lady Morgan's 
novels, composed in three months? When one 
recalls the many months of patient writing and 
revision which went to the making of any one of 
Jane Austen's finished sketches, we can well be- 
lieve that she distrusted the hasty methods of her 
contemporary, who though seven years her junior 
was already the author of as many books as the 
Hampshire novelist produced in her whole life. 
To a more famous book which was published at 
about the same time as "Ida of Athens" she also 
refers in one of this winter's letters : — 

" You have by no means raised my curiosity after 
' Caleb.' My disinclination for it before was affected, 
but now it is real. I do not like the evangelicals. Of 
course I shall be delighted when I read it, like other 
people; but till 1 do, I dislike it." 

1 " The Wild Irish Girl," by Lady Morgan, was published 
in 1801. 



I3 8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

This is said on the 23d of January; and on the 
30th she again makes mention of Mrs. Hannah 
More's chef d'ceuvre. — 

" I am not at all ashamed about th"e name of the 
novel, having been guilty of no insult towards your 
handwriting. The diphthong I always saw ; but know- 
ing how fond you were of adding a vowel wherever 
you could, I attributed it to that alone, and the knowl- 
edge of the truth does the book no service The only 
merit it could have was in the name of ' Caleb.,' which 
has an honest, unpretending sound ; but in ' Ccelebs ' 
there is pedantry and affectation. Is it written only to 
classical scholars ? " 

There is another playful arrow aimed at Cas- 
sandra's spelling in one of these January letters ; 
but it must be confessed that Jane's own spelling was 
not wholly above reproach. " Niece " is invariably 
spelled " neice " in her correspondence ; " Harriet " 
appears as "Harriot;" and similar misplacements 
and substitutions are common in her manuscript. 
Accuracy in spelling seems to be one of the virtues 
much more strenuously insisted upon by the pres- 
ent generation than by the members of the one 
which included its great- grandparents. In an age 
which may almost be said to have cultivated in- 
dividuality in regard to orthography, the humor 
presumably concealed in eccentric sequence of 
letters would have fallen most lamentably flat. 

"You used me scandalously by not mentioning 
Edward Cooper's sermons. I tell you everything; 
and it is unknown what mysteries you conceal from 



SIR JOHN MOORE. 139 

me ; and, to add to the rest, you persevere in giving 
a final e to ' invalid,' thereby putting it out of one's 
power to suppose Mrs. E. Leigh, even for a moment, 
a veteran soldier." 

As in the novels so in the letters there are but few 
allusions to contemporary events in the European 
world ; yet they are not entirely wanting. For 
instance, we have the death of Sir John Moore 
twice referred to : — 

" This is grievous news from Spain It is well that 
Dr. Moore was spared" the knowledge of such a sons 
death." 

This is on January 24, and in the next letter she 
adds, — 

" I am sorry to find that Sir J. Moore has a mother 
living; but though a very heroic son, he might not be 
a very necessary one to her happiness. . . . I wish Sir 
John had united something of the Christian with the 
hero in his death." 

Because there is so little reference in her novels 
and letters to the historical events of her genera- 
tion, Miss Austen has more than once been re- 
proached with indifference. The most momentous 
events were taking place in Europe during her 
lifetime, yet save for less than half a dozen brief 
allusions, occurring incidentally in her novels, and 
one or two in her correspondence, like the one 
just quoted, we should not know from either novels 
or letters that this was the epoch of the first 
Napoleon, that her countrymen were dying by 



140 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

thousands in the trenches during the Peninsular 
War, or fighting with unexampled heroism on the 
field of Waterloo. Was this indifference on her 
part? Not wholly that, it seems to me. 

That her novels should present almost no re- 
flections of the stirring close of the eighteenth 
century, and the equally tumultuous dawning of 
the nineteenth, need not surprise one. The unex- 
pressed principle upon which she acted in literary 
composition was to write of nothing concerning 
which she had not personal knowledge; and 
naturally this limited very materially the size of 
her canvases, excluding altogether the scenes 
in political or literary life of which she knew 
nothing. 

I confess that I have more difficulty in account- 
ing for the omission from her correspondence of all 
mention of what was passing in the world at large. 
From her two brothers in the navy she must have 
learned much of the nature and extent of naval 
movements at that time ; and we know that in their 
absence she kept herself informed of the position 
of the squadrons of which their vessels formed 
parts. But her other brothers appear not to have 
concerned themselves very greatly with matters 
outside the daily current of their lives j and their 
attitude no doubt affected Jane's to a great ex- 
tent. One was a country clergyman, with a 
multitude of small parish cares absorbing his time 
and thoughts ; another a country gentleman whose 
hours were mainly devoted to the management of 



RESTRICTED SYMPATHIES. 



141 



two large estates, a hundred miles apart ; while the 
third was a man too full of his own multifarious 
schemes, and numberless attentions to the pleasure 
of his many relatives, to have much room for, 
thought of other things. Like her brothers, Jane 
was a person of restricted sympathies. Her feel- 
ings in regard to the men and women she knew 
were both active and kindly; but the circum- 
stances of her life were not such as to broaden 
the field of her sympathies, and to this must be 
attributed her lack of interest in the great world of 
affairs. It must be kept well in mind also that 
her correspondence which has been preserved, is 
but a small portion of the whole ; and that for 
several periods of two or three years, or even 
longer, we have not a line of her writing to guide 
us to a knowledge of her thoughts and feelings. 
Had we more letters or a correspondence ad- 
dressed to more than one person, — for that is 
the practical limitation of what we do possess, — 
we might discover in her a wider range of sensi- 
bilities than is now apparent. Her position in 
regard to the larger aspects of her time was, 
let us believe, not so much one of indifference as 
that necessarily assumed by one who from lack 
of knowledge underrated the importance of 
their bearing upon the century in which she 
lived. 

At the close of the Austen residence in the base 
court of Southampton Castle, Jane had reached 
the age of thirty-four ; but she enjoyed an occa- 



142 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

sional ball nearly as much as when still on the 
sunny side of twenty, and of the last one she at- 
tended in Southampton we are told that she could 
have stayed longer but for the arrival of her list 
shoes to take her home. We can well believe that 
on this occasion she did not want for partners, or 
if this could possibly have been, that any lack of 
attendants would have ruffled the surface of her 
perpetual good-nature. 

One more pleasant reference to the favorite 
niece, Fanny, which occurs in the latest letter of 
this winter, must close our account of the South- 
ampton life, which had been in the main a very 
satisfactory one, but which the family were now 
quite willing to exchange for the home awaiting 
them at Chawton. 

" I am gratified by her having pleasure in what I 
write; but I wish the knowledge of my being exposed 
to her discerning criticism may not hurt my style by 
inducing too great a solicitude. I begin already to 
weigh my words and sentences more than I did, and 
am looking about for a sentiment, an illustration, or a 
metaphor in every corner of the room. Could my 
ideas flow as fast as the rain in the store-closet it 
would be charming." 

She had just been writing of her niece that while 
the young girl continued to give happiness to 
those about her, she would be pretty sure of her 
own share. 

Consciously or unconsciously, Jane Austen's life 
was tuned to this same key ; and her private hap- 



UNSOUGHT HAPPINESS. ^ 

piness was always assured, because it came to her 
in the ordinary course of an existence which gave 
delight to every one within its range. All happi- 
ness is sweet ; but unsought happiness is sweetest, 
and this higher joy was always hers. 



NOTE TO SECOND EDITION. 

The Very Reverend G. W. Kitchin, Dean of Win- 
chester, in a letter to the author, observes in regard 
to Miss Austen's spelling : — 

" By the way, don't cite Harriot against people 
as a miss-spelling. It was the fashionable way of 
both spelling and pronouncing the name (formerly- 
far more fashionable than now) in the eighteenth 
century. It was not the thing to sound the two r's, 
and the a was made very broad." 



VIII. 

REMOVAL TO CHAWTON ; PUBLICATION OF "SENSE 
AND SENSIBILITY," "PRIDE AND PREJUDICE," 
AND " MANSFIELD PARK." 

IN December of 1808 Jane had written to her 
sister that they hoped or wanted " to be settled 
in Chawton in time for Henry to come to us for some 
shooting in October at least, or a little earlier; 
and Edward may visit us after taking his boys 
back to Winchester," — adding, " Suppose we name 
the 4th of September." This arrangement prob- 
ably underwent some modification, for a fortnight 
later they seem to have definitely decided to leave 
Southampton on Easter Monday, April 3, and after 
visiting at Godmersham to go directly to their new 
home. With what degree of precision this plan 
was carried out we are left in uncertainty, since 
there are no letters existing from Jane to her sister 
between the end of January, 1809, and the middle 
of April, 181 1. That the removal was accom- 
plished, however, in the late spring or early sum- 
mer of 1809, we may safely take for granted; 
for with everything in readiness at Chawton, 
there remained no reason to delay leaving 
Southampton. 

The house at Chawton, which was to be their 
home for the rest of their lives, had originally 



REMOVAL TO CHAWTON. i 45 

been an inn, or posting-house ; and for this pur- 
pose was well adapted by its situation, being so 
near the high-road that the front door opened 
directly upon it. Several additions which Mr. 
Edward Austen made to the building at this time 
gave the exterior more the air of a private dwell- 
ing ; while extensive alterations inside increased 
its capacity for comfort. It stood very near the 
entrance to Chawton Park, and was the last house 
in Chawton village on the right-hand side of the 
road from Alton, a mile to the eastward ; just in 
front was a fork in the road, — the Winchester 
highway turning to the right, and that to Gosport 
to the left. According to Mr. Austen-Leigh's 
description, — 

" A good-sized entrance and two sitting-rooms made 
the length of the house, all intended originally to look 
upon the road ; but the large drawing-room window 
was blocked up and turned into a bookcase, and an- 
other opened at the side, which gave to view only turf 
and trees, as a high wooden fence and hornbeam 
hedge shut out the Winchester road, which skirted 
the whole length of the little domain. Trees were 
planted each side to form a shrubbery walk, carried 
round the enclosure. . . . There was a pleasant ir- 
regular mixture of hedgerow and gravel walk and 
orchard and long grass for mowing, arising from 
two or three little enclosures having been thrown 
together. The house itself was quite as good as 
the generality of parsonage-houses then were, and 
much in the same style, and was capable of receiv- 
ing other members of the family as well as frequent 
visitors." 

10 



146 JANE AUSTEN S LIFE. 

In Lord Brabourne's interesting account of the 
cottage as it appeared in 1884, he mentions the 
bricked-up drawing-room window, but appears to 
think that the change here indicated had been ac- 
complished since the time of the Austens ; for he 
goes on to observe that he believes this was " the 
window of the drawing-room of the house when 
Jane's family lived there." The matter is not one 
of importance, but it may be noted that the closing 
of this opening would insure a greater degree of 
privacy to the occupants of the house; and as Mr. 
Austen- Leigh was in his boyhood and during the 
lifetime of his aunt Jane a frequent visitor at his 
grandmother's, his account is doubtless the more 
accurate one in this particular. 

The present condition of the cottage l is well 
shown in photographs taken for the author in Sep- 
tember, 1889, by the courtesy of the present 
owner of Chawton Park, — Montagu Knight, Es- 
quire, a grandnephew of Jane Austen. The house 
is fairly commodious and quite large enough for 
the needs of a family like Mrs. Austen's, which 
included only herself and daughters, and Miss Mar- 
tha Lloyd. The front door opens into a passage- 
way used by the members of a laborers' club 
which occupies all of the lower floor to the left of 
the entry. As I entered the apartment where 
"Mansfield Park," "Emma," and "Persuasion" 

1 " Chawton Cottage has long been pulled down, and no 
picture of it exists " (Life of Jane Austen by Mrs. Maiden, 
published May, 



REMOVAL TO CHAWTON. I47 

were written, its sole occupant, a middle-aged la- 
borer, looked up from the newspaper he was reading, 
and courteously acknowledged the presence of his 
landlord, Mr. Knight, and myself. The place, now 
used as a club-room, contains a billiard-table and 
several substantial benches and tables. Mugs of 
beer are now called for where once the orange wine 
was sipped ; and the London dailies form the lit- 
erature of the room that aforetime contained the 
manuscripts of the six books upon which has since 
securely rested the renown of the famous woman 
who lived and wrote therein. 

Besides the laborers' club the cottage contains 
three cottagers' dwellings, entered from the rear, 
and in one of these stands a solid old bureau, once 
the property of Jane Austen's mother. Going 
through the house, we passed out by the west door 
at the rear, which opens upon a large garden-plot 
now divided among the cottagers to whose use it 
is appropriated. The bushes which I saw growing 
against the wall are for the most part sturdy Banksia 
roses planted there at least half a century ago by 
Cassandra Austen, who was very fond of flowers. 
It was a liking she shared with her niece by 
marriage, the wife of her nephew, Edward Knight ; 
and the two ladies spent many long hours here and 
at the great house in the Park in consultation over 
their favorite plants. 

The life which the Austens were to spend at 
Chawton was materially different in tenor from 
that passed at Southampton and Bath. In those 



I4 8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE, 

towns the social distractions were many ; at Chaw- 
ton they were necessarily few. Instead of looking 
from their windows upon streets full of fashionable 
pleasure-seekers, as when in Bath, or upon castle 
walls or sail-dotted waters, as when living in the 
ancient seaport between the Itchen and the Test, 
the Austens could now behold no more animated 
a scene than that afforded by a country road with 
its comparatively infrequent passers-by. For the 
many shops of Bath and Southampton they ex- 
changed the few inferior ones of the small town of 
Alton, a mile or more away ; and for the numerous 
peals of church-bells, that had sounded for so 
long a period in their ears, they could hear only 
the bell from the small parish church close at hand, 
or that from the venerable pile at Alton dedicated 
to Saint Nicholas. But the change from city to 
country, from animation to quiet and seclusion, 
was one they did not find all unwelcome. Perhaps 
had it not been made, those three early novels of 
Jane's had never received their final revision, or 
the later three been written at all. It is certain 
that neither at Bath nor at Southampton did she 
obtain the leisure for writing which had once been 
found in the old rectory at Steventon, and which 
was now to be hers in the retirement of Chawton 
Cottage. 

From now until that last journey to Winchester, 
eight years later, the chief occasions of Jane's leaving 
home were to be her visits to her brother Henry 
in London, or to Edward ( who had now formally 



AT THE PLAY. I49 

taken the name of Knight ) at Godmersham. She 
enjoyed these trips exceedingly, but was always 
ready to return to Chawton and to Cassandra, from 
whom separation became more and more of a pain 
as years went on. 

What the rather frequent journeys to London 
brought into her life we first learn from her 
letters written at her brother Henry's home in 
Sloane Street, in April of 1 8 1 1 . The theatre was 
always a delight to her, and she looked forward to 
seeing one or more plays whenever she went to 
London. On this particular occasion she was 
very much disappointed over a change of bill 
occurring on a certain night when Henry Aus- 
ten had planned to take his wife and sister 
to the theatre, which substituted " Hamlet " for 
" King John." " We are to go on Monday to 
' Macbeth ' instead. It is a great disappointment 
to us both," she declares, — -an expression of regret 
which perhaps reveals the tendency of her Shake- 
spearian preferences. Few play-goers of the present, 
I imagine, would grieve overmuch at a change which 
gave them " Hamlet " for one of the historical plays. 
What actually happened on the evening in question 
we hear of later : — 

" We did go to the play, after all, on Saturday. We 
went to the Lyceum, and saw the 'Hypocrite,' — an 
old play taken from Moliere's ' Tartuffe,' — and were 
well entertained. Dowton and Mathews were the 
good actors ; Mrs. Edwin was the heroine, and her per- 
formance is just what it used to be. I have no chance 



l5 o JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

of seeing Mrs. Siddons. She did 'act on Monday ; but 
as Henry was told by the box-keeper that he did not 
think she would, the plans and all thought of it were 
given up. I should particularly have liked seeing her 
in Constance, and could swear at her with little effort 
for disappointing me." 

The spectacle of Jane Austen meditating an out- 
burst of profanity, even in jest, differs materially 
from the sedate portrait in browns and greys which 
some of her admirers have painted of her, and to 
my thinking is not the less attractive, because the 
more human, of the two. 

One of the diversions of this London visit was a 
musicale at her brother's ; and knowing what we do 
of her general attractiveness, it occasions us no 
surprise to learn that her company was in great 
demand in the pauses of the entertainment, and 
to find her declaring, — 

" I was quite surrounded by acquaintance, especially 
gentlemen ; and with Mr. Hampson, Mr. Seymour, Mr. 
W. Knatchbull, Mr. Guillemarde, Mr. Cure, a Captain 
Simpson, brother to the Captain Simpson, besides 
Mr. Walter and Mr. Egerton, in addition to the 
Cookes and Miss Beckford and Miss Middleton, I 
had quite as much upon my hands as I could do." 

Other pleasures of these London weeks con- 
sisted of excursions to the Liverpool Museum and 
the British Gallery ; and her remark that she had 
some amusement at each, though her preference 
for men and women always inclined, her " to at- 
tend more to the company than the sight," is 
important as showing the same trait of character 



L OND ON SHOPPING. 1 5 x 

which in her writing led her to place small depend- 
ence on descriptive backgrounds to enhance her 
effects. Then there were walks in Kensington 
Gardens, drives, dinners, and what Jane always 
seems to have had pleasure in, — shopping. On 
this last topic and its attendant train of feminine 
consequences, she thus enlarges to Cassandra : — 

" I am sorry to tell you that I am getting very ex- 
travagant and spending all my money, and what is 
worse for you, I have been spending yours too ; for in 
a linen-draper's shop, to which I went for checked 
muslin, and for which I was obliged to give seven 
shillings a yard, I was tempted by a pretty-colored 
muslin, and bought ten yards of it on the chance of 
your liking it. But at the same time, if it should not 
suit you, you must not think yourself at all obliged to 
take it ; it is only 3s. 6d. per yard, and I should not in 
the least mind keeping the whole. In texture it is 
just what we prefer ; but its resemblance to green 
crewels, I must own, is not great, for the pattern is a 
small spot. ... I was very well satisfied with my pur- 
chases, — my bugle trimming at 2s. /[d., and three pair 
silk stockings for a little less than \2s. a pair. . . . Miss 
Burton has made me a very pretty little bonnet, and 
now nothing can satisfy me but I must have a straw 
hat, of the riding-hat shape, like Mrs. Tilson's ; and a 
young woman in this neighborhood is actually making 
me one. I am really very shocking ; but it will not be 
dear at a guinea. Our pelisses are \js. each; she 
charges only 8s. for the making, but the buttons seem ex- 
pensive, — are expensive, I might have said, for the fact 
is plain enough. . . . I do not mean to provide another 
trimming for my pelisse, for I am determined to spend 
no more money ; so I shall wear it as it is, longer than 



152 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

I ought, and then — I do not know. ... I mean, if I 
can, to wait for your return before I have my new gown . 
made up, from a notion of their making up to more 
advantage together; and as I find the muslin is not so 
wide as it used to be, some contrivance may be neces- 
sary. I expect the skirt to require one half-breadth 
cut in gores, besides two whole breadths." 

Cassandra would appear to have made some in- 
quiries regarding her sister's costume at the must- 
cafe, for she is informed that — 

" My head-dress was a bugle-band like the border to 
my gown, and a flower of Mrs. Tilson's. I depended 
upon hearing something of the evening from Mr. W. 
K., and am very well satisfied with his notice of me : 
'A very pleasing-looking young woman,' — that must 
do. One cannot pretend to anything better now ; thank- 
ful to have it continued a few years longer." 

When one thinks of Jane Austen at thirty-five, 
still as handsome as when ten years younger, with 
her bright animated face, sprightly conversation, 
and becoming attire, the expression, " a pleasing- 
looking young woman," seems decidedly tame, and 
makes one impatient with the " Mr. W. K." who 
had nothing more enthusiastic than this in his 
vocabulary to say of her. But I am bound to be- 
lieve that the seven other gentlemen who gathered 
about her that evening found themselves abun- 
dantly able to utter warmer words of praise than 
these, although the object of it all was not so 
fortunate as to hear them. 

The two years which at this time had elapsed 
since the removal to Chawton had not been alto- 



MRS. BRUNTOiVS " SELF-CONTROL." 



'53 



gether unprofitable ones from the literary point of 
view. In that period her attention had once more 
turned to authorship; and during 1809 and 18 10 
she had been recasting " Elinor and Marianne," 
which now received its title, " Sense and Sensibility," 
and also revising " Pride and Prejudice." During 
her stay in London in the spring of 1 8 1 1 the former 
book was slowly passing through the press, — a pro- 
cess which her brother Henry attempted, without 
much success, to hasten. In connection with her 
own work appears an allusion to the popular novel 
of the first half of 181 1, Mrs. Brunton's "Self- 
control " : — 

"We have tried to get 'Self-control,' but in vain. 
I should like to know what her estimate is, but am 
always half afraid of finding a clever novel too clever, 
and of finding my own story and my own people all 
forestalled." 

Never were apprehensions more needless than 
these ; for Jane Austen's character-painting was not 
of the kind which any of her contemporaries could 
conceive of. In the present instance, Mrs. Brun- 
ton's story, " intended to show the power of the 
religious principle in bestowing self-command, and 
to bear testimony against a maxim as immoral as 
indelicate, that ' a reformed rake makes the best hus- 
band,' " was quite out of the course adopted by the 
genius of her sister novelist, who never made formal 
enunciation of a didactic purpose at the outset of 
her tales. Still it was not unnatural that Miss 
Austen, who intended to delineate in Elinor Dash- 



15 4 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

wood a woman whose distinguishing characteristic 
was self-control, should have felt some little anxiety 
as to what another writer was doing with a similar 
theme. Two years later, after re-reading Mrs. 
Brunton's story, she records her views concerning 
it: — 

" I am looking over ' Self-Control ' again ; and my 
opinion is confirmed of its being an excellently meant, 
elegantly written work, without anything of nature or 
probability in it. I declare I do not know whether 
Laura's passage down the American river is not the 
most natural, possible, every-day thing she does." 

May of 1811 found Jane back at Chawton and 
Cassandra at Godmersham ; and the recital of the 
homely household details which the absent sister 
never wearied of hearing about is resumed. Jane 
seems to have had but a very moderate liking for 
flowers ; but Cassandra, on the contrary, was very 
fond of them, and for her sister's sake Jane fills 
her pages with items concerning them : — 

" Some of your flower-seeds are coming up very well; 
but your mignonette makes a wretched appearance. 
Miss Benn has been equally unlucky as to hers. She 
had seed from four different people, and none of it 
comes up. Our young piony at the foot of the fir-tree 
has just blown, and looks very handsome; and the whole 
of the shrubbery border will soon be very gay with 
pinks and sweet-williams, in addition to the columbines 
already in bloom. The syringas, too, are coming out. 
We are likely to have a great crop of Orleans plumbs; 
but not many greengages, — on the standard scarcely 
any, three or four dozen, perhaps, against the wall. 



THE GARDEX A T CHA WTON 



*55 



. . . You cannot imagine — it is not in human 
nature to imagine — what a nice walk we have round 
the orchard. The row of beech look very well indeed, 
and so does the young quick-set hedge in the garden. 
1 hear to-day that an apricot has been detected on one 
of the trees." 

Verily, the Austen garden, shut in by high walls 
and shrubbery, and brilliant with pinks, peonies, 
syringas, and 

" Sweet-William with his homely cottage smell," 
must have been a charming spot in which to linger 
on those long June afternoons. But instead of 
those gay, long-vanished blooms I saw only 
thrifty cabbages and potatoes growing in the 
once trim flower-plots ; and of all that wealth of 
blossoms only a few pale roses scattered their petals 
from the cottage wall. 

Summer appears to have begun early in 1811, 
and to have brought with it what Jane very 
much disliked, — thunder-storms, — in abundance. 

"We sat upstairs," she writes on May 29, "and had 
thunder and lightning, as usual. I never knew such a 
spring for thunder-storms as this has been ! Thank 
God, we have had no bad ones here. I thought myself 
in luck to have my Uncomfortable feelings shared by 
the mistress of the house, as that procured blinds and 
candles." 

Two days later Cassandra is informed that " we 
have had a thunder-storm again this morning. Your 
letter came to comfort me for it." 

As the summer progressed, the garden began to 
show forth fruits and vegetables as well as flowers. 



I5 6 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

" We began pease on Sunday ; but our gatherings are 
very small, not at all like the gathering in the ' Lady 
of the Lake.' Yesterday I had the agreeable surprise 
of finding several scarlet strawberries quite ripe ; had 
you been at home, this would have been a pleasure lost. 
There are more gooseberries and fewer currants than 
I thought at first. We must buy currants for our 
wine." 

Lord Brabourne endeavors to fancy his aunt 
walking along the paths of the Chawton garden 
" eng'aged in deciding upon the fate of one of her 
heroes or heroines, or maturing the plot of her 
next book." It is an attractive picture that is 
thus summoned up : the high-walled, fragrant pleas- 
ance bright with its many blooms, and the tall, 
graceful figure, in the picturesque dress of the 
period, moving slowly up and down its walks, per- 
haps with eyes cast down and hands lightly clasped 
behind her, like some fair woman in William Mor- 
ris's pre-Raphaelite gallery of folk, — 

" Midways of a walled garden ; " 

and it may or may not have had its counterpart in 
the reality. But in point of fact, wherever her medi- 
tations may have taken place, her writing was 
always done indoors in the family sitting-room, 
which looked out upon the garden, and where 
entire seclusion was not possible. Her nephew 
and biographer says of this : — 

" She was careful that her occupation should not be 
suspected by servants or visitors or any persons be- 
yond her own family party. She wrote upon small 



"SENSE AND SENSIBILITY" 157 

sheets of paper which could easily be put away, or 
covered with a piece of blotting-paper. There was 
between the front door and the offices a swing door 
which creaked when it was opened ; but she objected to 
having this little inconvenience remedied because it 
gave her notice when any one was coming. . . . 

... In that well-occupied female party there 
must have been many precious hours of silence during 
which the pen was busy at the little mahogany writing- 
desk, while Fanny Price or Emma Woodhouse or 
Anne Elliot was growing into beauty and interest. I 
have no doubt that I and my sisters and cousins, in 
our visits to Chawton, frequently disturbed this mys- 
tic process, without having any idea of the mischief 
that we were doing; certainly we never should have 
guessed it by any signs of impatience or irritability 
in the writer." 

In February of this year she began work upon 
" Mansfield Park," — an occupation which the Lon- 
don visit and correction of the proofs of " Sense 
and Sensibility " must have somewhat interrupted. 
As she once wrote that she did not expect the lat- 
ter book would appear as early as June, we may 
infer that it was not published before midsummer 
of 1 8 1 1 . Its authorship was well known to various 
branches of the Austen kindred ; but the time had 
not yet come for the public to share this knowl- 
edge. In the diary of the favorite niece, Fanny, 
is an entry dated Sept. 28, 181 1, which is as 
follows : — 

11 Letter from At. Cass., to beg we would not men- 
tion that Aunt Jane wrote ' Sense and Sensibility.' " 



158 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Save for a few entries in this niece's diary there 
are no records of Jane Austen's life during the year 
1 812. Fanny Knight, who was now nineteen, 
spent some weeks during the spring of that year 
at Chawton House, in company with her father ; 
and in the constant intercourse maintained during 
such visits between cottage and manor, the affection 
between the aunt and niece was strengthened and 
intensified. Her younger sister, writing in old 
age to Lord Brabourne, says of his mother in this 
regard, — 

"Your dear mother, being so many years older than 
the rest of us, was a friend and companion of the two 
aunts, Cassandra and Jane, particularly of the latter ; 
and they had all sorts of secrets together whilst we 
were only children." 

As the sisters do not appear to have been sepa- 
rated this year, considerable progress was pre- 
sumably made upon "Mansfield Park," since when 
Cassandra was at home, the younger sister's cares 
were fewer ; and during the last months of the year 
Jane busied herself in correcting the proofs of 
"Pride and Prejudice," which was given to the 
world in January, 1813. By this date Cassandra 
was absent upon one of her Godmersham visits ; 
and Jane writes to her on January 29 in high 
spirits over the appearance of the new book : 

" I want to tell you that I have got my own darling 
child from London. On Wednesday I received one 
copy sent down by Falkener, with three lines from 
Henry to say that he had given another to Charles, 



"PRIDE AND PREJUDICE:' i59 

and sent a third by the coach to Godmersham. . . . 
Miss B. dined with us on the very day of the book's 
coming; and in the evening we fairly set at it, and read 
half the first volume to her, prefacing that having in- 
telligence from Henry that such a work would soon 
appear, we had desired him to send it whenever it 
came out, and I believe it passed with her unsus- 
pected. She was amused, poor soul ! That she 
could not help, you know, with two such people to 
lead the way ; but she really does seem to admire 
Elizabeth. 1 must confess that I think her as de- 
lightful a creature as ever appeared in print ; and how 
I shall be able to tolerate those who do not like her 
at least, I do not know. There are a few typical 
errors ; and a ' said he,' or a ' said she,' would some- 
times make the dialogue more immediately clear; but 
' I do not write for such dull elves ' as have not a 
great deal of ingenuity themselves. The second 
volume is shorter than I could wish ; but the differ- 
ence is not so much in reality as in look, there being 
a larger proportion of narrative in that part. I have 
lop't and crop't so successfully, however, that I ima- 
gine it must be rather shorter than ' Sense and Sensi- 
bility ' altogether." 

Making requisite allowance for the playful ex- 
aggeration here, it is still evident that Miss Austen 
took the honest pride in good work which every 
real artist does ; and that a recognition of its merits 
was by no means a matter of indifference to her. 
The allusion to the lopping and cropping of 
"Pride and Prejudice" hints at the careful re- 
vision it had finally undergone. One can readily 
fancy the pleasure with which she listened to her 
mother's reading, and to the comments of the 



160 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

visitor, who had not the faintest notion that the 
author of those amusing chapters was close to her 
elbow. A few days after, Jane writes of another 
reading from the entertaining volume, — 

" Our second evening's reading to Miss B. had not 
pleased me so well ; but I believe something must be 
attributed to my mother's too rapid way of getting on. 
Though she perfectly understands the characters her- 
self, she cannot speak as they ought. Upon the whole, 
however, I am quite vain enough and well satisfied 
enough. The work is rather too light and bright and 
sparkling. It wants shade ; it wants to be stretched 
out here and there with a long chapter of sense, if 
it could be had; if not, of solemn, specious nonsense, 
about something unconnected with the story ; an essay 
on writing, a critique on Walter Scott, or the history 
of Buonaparte, or something that would form a con- 
trast, and bring the reader with increased delight to 
the playfulness and epigrammatism of the general 
style." 

In the ironical suggestion as to the " specious 
nonsense " which might be inserted in the tale, 
we gain a notion of her real feeling respecting 
matters of style, — a sentiment which never allowed 
her to indulge in digressions in the course of her 
novels, which consequently present perhaps the fin- 
est instances of unimpeded direct narration in the 
whole range of English fiction. From the extract 
which immediately follows, we learn who were her 
favorite -characters in " Pride and Prejudice " : 

" I am exceedingly pleased that you can say what 
you do, after having gone through the whole work; 



"MANSFIELD PARK." 161 

and Fanny's praise is very gratifying. My hopes were 
tolerably strong of her, but nothing like a certainty. 
Her liking Darcy and Elizabeth is enough. She 
might hate all the others, if she would. I have her 
opinion under her own hand this morning ; but your 
transcript of it, which I read first, was not and is not 
the less acceptable. To me it is all praise ; but the 
more exact truth which she sends you is good 
enough.'' 

At the time these sentences were written — 
namely, in February of 1813 — " Mansfield Park" 
was nearly finished ; but she worked upon it very 
slowly and carefully, and it was a year later before 
she was reading the completed manuscript with 
her brother Henry, whose judgment in matters 
literary she appears to have valued highly, how- 
ever little confidence she may have felt disposed 
to place in other judgments of his. 

More or less speculation has been indulged in 
regarding the actual position of " Mansfield Park ; " 
but it is the opinion of the Austens of the present 
generation that no precise locality furnished the 
materials for the description. It is not at all im- 
probable, however, that the vicinity of Chawton, as 
an appreciative writer has pointed out, was in the 
author's mind in several of the descriptions in 
"Mansfield Park" and "Emma." Mr. Kebbel, 
the critic to whom allusion is made, suggests that 
Chawton House and Chawton Cottage were the 
models from which Jane drew the stately abode of 
Sir Thomas Bertram and the "White House," 
which was the home of the never-to-be-forgotten 



1 62 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Mrs. Norris. There is nothing to offer which very 
strongly militates against this suggestion ; and to 
one familiar with Chawton Park, it seems a very 
likely one. Still Jane Austen was well acquainted 
with the surroundings of more than one manor- 
house in Kent as well as in Hants, and may, and 
doubtless did, have more than one such in mind 
when writing " Mansfield Park." 

In regard to " Emma," Mr. Kebbel fancies that 
the Highbury described within its pages may have 
been meant for either Holybourne or Froyle, 
villages a few miles distant from Alton ; but any 
one who searches for a likeness may as easily 
trace one between Highbury and certain Kentish 
or Somerset villages which Jane knew well as 
between Highbury and either of these two villages 
in East Hants. Except where existing places 
were actually named in her books, however, 
it is probable that no recognizable description of 
localities was attempted. 

She found opportunity in the intervals of this 
winter's tasks to read much, for new books 
appeared at Chawton with great frequency ; and 
in February she writes, — 

" We quite run over with books. She [Mrs. 
Austen] has got Sir John Carr's ' Travels in Spain;' 
and I am reading a Society octavo, an ' Essay on the 
Military Police and Institutions of the British Empire,' 
by Captain Pasley of the Engineers, — a book which I 
protested against at first, but which upon trial I find 
delightfully written and highly entertaining. I am as 
much in love with the author as I ever was with 



GUILDFORD AND ESHER. ^3 

Clarkson or Buchanan, or the two Mr. Smiths 1 of the 
city. The first soldier I ever sighed for ; but he does 
write with extraordinary force and spirit. Yesterday, 
moreover, brought us 'Mrs. Grant's Letters' with 
Mr. White's compliments." 

In May of this year, Jane made a journey to 
London in her brother's curricle, going by way of 
Guildford and Esher, and spending twelve hours 
en route. A leisurely progress it w r as through the 
lovely county of Surrey, white w r ith hawthorn 
blooms and fresh w r ith all the beauty of an English 
spring ; and she seems to have thoroughly enjoyed 
every mile of it. At Guildford and Esher, where 
stoppages for breakfast and dinner were made, she 
and her brother took short strolls while the horses 
were resting. Of Guildford, w 7 hich many later 
tourists have deemed picturesque she records : 
" From some views which that stroll gave us, I think 
most highly of the situation of Guildford. We 
wanted all our brothers and sisters to be standing 
with us in the bowling-green and looking towards 
Horsham." 

The country between Guildford and Ripley 
seemed to her " particularly pretty, also about 
Painshill ; " and of Esher she writes, — 

" From a Mr. Spicer's grounds, which we walked 
,into before dinner, the views were beautiful. I cannot 
say what we did not see ; but I should think there could 

1 Horace and James Smith, the authors of " The Rejected 
Addresses/' which was published in 181 2. 



164 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE, 

not be a wood or a meadow or palace or remarkable 
spot in England that was not spread out before us on 
one side or other." 

In March of the year following, she made the 
same excursion with her brother, but presumably 
in a close carriage, for there were some flurries of 
snow during the second day, the journey being 
broken by a night's rest at Cobham on the way ; 
and a portion of the time was employed in reading 
together the manuscript of " Mansfield . Park." 
Concerning this, Cassandra is informed : — 

"We did not begin reading till Bentley Green. 
Henry's approbation is hitherto even equal to my 
wishes. 'He says it is different from the other two, 
but does not appear to think it at all inferior. He has 
only married Mrs. R. I am afraid he has gone 
through the most entertaining part. He took to Lady 
B. and Mrs. N. most kindly, and gives great praise to 
the drawing of the characters. He understands them 
all, likes Fanny, and, I think, foresees how it will all 
be. . . . He admires H. Crawford,— I mean, properly, 
as a clever, pleasant man. I tell you all the good I 
can, as I know how much you will enjoy it." <- 

In the course of the earlier of these visits, she 
amused herself by endeavoring to discover, in the 
picture galleries to which she went, some portraits 
which should resemble her own mental pictures of 
the heroines of " Pride and Prejudice." No por- 
trait of Elizabeth met her eye either in the Spring 
Gardens Exhibition, or among Sir Joshua Reynolds's 
paintings then on view i»— FaH~-Mttll ; but at the 
former place- she did perceive a portrait which 



JAXE'S CHARACTERS REAL TO HER. ^5 

satisfied her ideas of how Jane should look, as we 
shall see : — 

" It is not thought a good collection ; but I was very 
well pleased, particularly (pray tell Fanny) with a 
small portrait of Mrs. Bingley, excessively like her, . . . 
exactly herself, — size, shaped face, features, and sweet- 
ness ; there never was a greater likeness. She is 
dressed in a white gown, with green ornaments, which 
convinces me of what I had always supposed, that 
green was a favorite colour with her." 

The only modern and partial inheritor of Jane 
Austen's peculiar shade of realism, he who created 
Barsetshire, and filled it full of living men and 
women, Anthony Trollope, confesses that Barset 
was to him a real county, and the folk who trod 
the streets of his cathedral city of Barchester — the 
Grantleys, the Proudies, and the rest — had as 
actual an existence as the people who passed him 
in the London streets. 

To Jane Austen, her characters were real per- 
sonages likewise. So much time was invariably 
spent upon each of her books, in composition, 
revision, reading the manuscripts aloud to the few 
persons admitted to her confidence, and whose 
critical taste she valued, as well as in frequent 
discussions regarding them with these same per- 
sons, that they became as much a part of her life 
as the men and women of flesh and blood whom 
she saw every day. A few of them, indeed, like 
Elinor Dashwood, Elizabeth Bennet, Fanny Price, 
Emma Woodhouse, and Anne Elliot, she loved 



1 66 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

almost as she loved her own brothers and sister : 
and anything to the disparagement of these crea- 
tions of her brain hurt her as keenly as if uttered 
against one of her household. Many great novelists 
have felt similarly; but not all have expressed 
themselves as naively on the point as did she. 

It was a habit with her to talk over her charac- 
ters with her niece Fanny when they met ; and on 
one or more occasions the niece amused her aunt 
Jane by writing to her in the character of Miss 
Darcy. 

In September, 1813, in company with this niece 
and two other daughters of her brother Edward, jane 
paid a short visit to her brother Henry, whose wife 
had died earlier in the year, and who had lately- 
removed to Henrietta Street. Although Jane was in 
London but three nights on this occasion, two of 
them were spent at the theatre. The opera of 
" Don Juan," very possibly Gluck's ballet of that 
name, and not Mozart's " Don Giovanni," since she 
mentions it as the third performance of the evening, 
was what the party listened to the first night, and 
" Midas " and " The Clandestine Marriage " on the 
second. 

During the time of this visit she heard from 
her London acquaintances a good deal of praise 
bestowed upon " Pride and Prejudice," the charac- 
ter of Elizabeth being especially liked. 

She was unfeignedly fond of Crabbe's poetry, and 
evidently would have preferred meeting him to any 
other literary light of her time ; and there are 



ADMIRATION FOR CRAB BE. 167 

several jesting allusions to this admiration of hers 
in the correspondence of this year. " I am in 
agonies," she exclaims in one of her letters from 
Henrietta Street, — "I have not yet seen Mr. 
Crabbe ; " and in an account of the second play 
she witnessed she stops to declare that she " was 
particularly disappointed at seeing nothing of Mr. 
Crabbe. I felt sure of him when I saw that the 
boxes were fitted up with crimson velvet." 

" No," she writes a month later from Kent, " I have 
never seen the death of Mrs. Crabbe. 1 have only just 
been making out from one of his prefaces that he pro- 
bably was married. It is almost ridiculous. Poor 
woman ! I will comfort him as well as I can, but I do 
not undertake to be good to her children. She had 
better not leave any." 

Whether the poet Crabbe ever read any of Jane 
Austen's novels, I do not know ; but that she should 
have enjoyed his verse is easily explainable, for 
there is the same patience of realism in "The 
Village " and " The Borough " as in " Emma " or 
" Mansfield Park." Both writers were persons of 
keen but necessarily somewhat restricted sym- 
pathies ; and both were minute observers of the 
events of common daily life. Had the poet 
possessed any of the humorous perceptions of the 
novelist, his realism, while remaining no less true 
than hers, would have happily wanted that un- 
relieved sombre tinge which, more than anything 
else, has caused his verse to fall so much out of 
favor with a later generation. 



^8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE: 

The hurried London visit, so full of the play, of 
calls and shopping, of which latter occupation a 
good deal is told us, was succeeded by a two 
months' sojourn at Godmersham, to which, in fact, 
the London expedition was but the prelude. Be- 
tween the details of life at a great country house, 
like that at Godmersham Park, and those which 
concerned a family in plain though comfortable 
circumstances, like the one in Chawton Cottage, 
there was necessarily a wide difference ; and Jane 
seems to have momentarily fancied that her sister 
might think her indifferent to the more homely 
household matters pertaining to Chawton when 
surrounded by the luxury of her brother's home. 
Accordingly we hear made such an affectionate 
request as this, which shows, if such testimony be 
needed, how near to Jane's heart were all the small 
events occurring in her mother's home. Her own 
Miss Bates did not dwell upon similar trifles with 
more kindly perseverance : " Let me know when 
you begin the new tea, and the new white wine. 
My present elegancies have not yet made me in- 
different to such matters. I am still a cat if I see 
a mouse." 

In return for Cassandra's items of news she gives 
in her own sportive fashion a recital of everything 
in her present life that can possibly interest those 
at home. The two nephews, Edward and George, 
by this time at Oxford, are mentioned at times in 
some such strain as this : " George writes cheerfully 
and quietly, . . . went to lecture on Wednesday, 



HABITS OF JANE'S BROTHERS. 169 

states some of his expenses, and concludes with 
saying, ' I am afraid I shall be poor.' I am glad 
he thinks about it so soon." 

Perhaps the event of chief importance to Jane 
at this time was a visit which her brother Charles 
and his wife paid to the Godmersham household : 
" Here they are, safe and well, just like their own 
nice selves, — Fanny looking as neat and white this 
morning as possible ; and dear Charles all affection- 
ate, placid, quiet, cheerful good- humor." 

In these last years of Jane's life, she saw less of 
her youngest brother than of any of the other four ; 
but there was no weakening of the tie in conse- 
quence. She knew all the habits and likings of 
the whole five as intimately as their respective 
wives could have done, and regarded all such topics 
with affectionate as well as sometimes amused 
interest : — 

"This cold weather," she writes, in mid-October of 
1813, to Cassandra, now visiting Henry Austen in 
London, "comes very fortunately for Edward's nerves, 
with such a houseful: it suits him exactly; he is all 
alive and cheerful. Poor James, on the contrary, must 
be running his toes into the fire. " 

The cold weather seems to have infused a good 
deal of liveliness into Kentish society at this time, 
and not limited its beneficial effects solely to " Ed- 
ward's nerves ; " for a concert at Chilham Castle, a 
ball at Canterbury, and any number of friendly visi- 
tations were among the mild dissipations of this 



i 7 o JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

autumn. And Jane Austen was a part of all she 
describes, and enjoyed the interchange of social 
amenities as heartily as she had ever done, like 
the sensible woman that she was. As usual, too, 
she kept her eyes wide open in the midst of it all ; 
and the tiny thumb-nail sketches she draws of the 
various people she meets are just as spirited as 
ever. If they seem to us now a trifle unsym- 
pathetic occasionally, it must be remembered that 
she knew most thoroughly the person to whom she 
wrote, and therefore did not pause in her rapid 
sketchings to throw in the lines required to soften 
them. Her object was simply to amuse Cassandra, 
who, she well knew, would mentally supply these 
same modifying touches while she read. 

" I have extended my lights and increased my 
acquaintance a good deal within these two days. Lady 
Honeywood you know. I did not sit near enough to 
be a perfect judge, but I thought her extremely pretty, 
and her manners have all the recommendations of ease 
and good-humor and unaffectedness ; and going about 
with four horses and nicely dressed herself, she is 
altogether a perfect sort of woman. . . . We met 
only the Bretons at Chilham Castle, besides a Mr. 
and Mrs. Osborne and a Miss Lee staying in the 
house, and were only fourteen altogether. My brother 
and Fanny thought it the pleasantest party they had 
ever known there ; and I was very well entertained by 
bits and scraps. I had long wanted to see Dr. Breton ; 
and his wife amuses me very much with her affected 
refinement and elegance. Miss Lee I found very con- 
versable : she admires Crabbe as she ought. She is at 
an age of reason, ten years older than myself at least." 



"PRIDE AND PREJUDICE." ^ l 

" Poor Dr. Isham," she tells Cassandra, in one of 
the letters of this period, " is obliged to admire ' P. 
and P.,' and to send me word that he is sure he shall 
not like Madame d'Arblay's new novel half so well." 

As "The Wanderer," the " new novel" alluded 
to, which was published a few months later, is an 
excessively dull tale, " poor Dr. Isham " was not 
paying, after all, what could be styled an extrava- 
gant compliment. 

But " P. and P.," as Jane calls it, was now grow- 
ing rapidly into favor; and in November she was 
able to tell her sister, — 

" Since I wrote last, my second edition has stared 
me in the face. Mary tells me that Eliza means to 
buy it. I wish she may. ... I cannot help hoping 
that many will feel themselves obliged to buy it. I 
shall not mind imagining it a disagreeable duty to 
them, so as they do it. Mary heard before she left 
home that it was very much admired at Cheltenham, and 
that it was given to Miss Hamilton. It is pleasant to 
have such a respectable writer named. I cannot tire 
you, I am sure, on this subject, or I would apologize. 
What weather and what news! We have enough to 
do to admire them both. I hope you derive your full 
share of enjoyment from each." 

The lady to whom Jane looked up as " such a 
respectable writer," was Miss Elizabeth Hamilton, 
who died in 1816 at the age of fifty-eight, and 
whose " Letters of a Hindoo Rajah," "The Modern 
Philosopher," and other works, although once much 
admired, are now as seldom read as " The Faerie 
Queene " and infinitely less talked about. 



i 7 2 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

" I am read and admired in Ireland, too," Jane 
notes early in November for her sister's pleasure. 
" There is a Mrs. Fletcher, the wife of a judge, an 
old lady, and very good and very clever, who is all 
curiosity to know about me, — what I am like, and 
so forth. I am not known to her by name, how- 
ever." Then follows a shaft of playful irony aimed 
at herself: " I do not despair of having my picture 
in the Exhibition at last, — all white and red, with 
my head on one side ; or perhaps I may marry 
young Mr. d'Arblay." 

While Jane was in Kent she experienced much 
anxiety respecting the ill health of her brother 
Henry; and allusions to his condition are of fre- 
quent occurrence in the correspondence. The 
elder sister was now with him, leaving the Chaw- 
ton household to be cared for by Miss Lloyd; 
and the younger sister wished to be with her 
brother also if her services should be needed on 
her return from Kent. Accordingly she assures 
Cassandra to this effect : — 

" I cannot be quite easy without staying a little 
while with Henry, unless he wishes it otherwise ; his 
illness and the dull time of year together make me 
feel that it would be horrible of me not to offer to re- 
main with him; and therefore unless you know of any 
objection, I wish you would tell him with my best 
love that I shall be most happy to spend ten days 
or a fortnight in Henrietta Street, if he will accept me. 
I do not offer more than a fortnight, because I shall 
then have been some time away from home ; but it will 
be a great pleasure to be with him, as it always is." 



RETURN TO LOXDON WITH HENRY. I73 

The offer was accepted ; and in the last letter 
from Kent she says : " I was only afraid you might 
think the offer superfluous ; but you have set my 
heart at ease. Tell Henry that I will stay with 
him, let it be ever so disagreeable to him." 

The Godmersham visit ended on the 13th of 
November ; and a day or two later she was with her 
brother Henry in London. This particular brother, 
who had always, as Jane expresses it, " a turn for 
being ill," was for that reason an object of especial 
solicitude to his mother and sisters, and particu- 
larly so since the death of his wife had left him 
alone, with no one in his household to take thought 
for his comfort. His illness at this time was not a 
long one; and in February of 18 14, he visited his 
mother and sisters at Chawton, and on his return to 
London took his younger sister with him. This 
was the trip beguiled of its tedium by the reading 
of " Mansfield Park," as we have already heard ; 
and the reading begun at Bentley Green was con- 
cluded in London some days later. The two were 
evidently very happy over the reading, — he in 
sincere admiration of his sister's talents, she in the 
knowledge that her work was being approved by 
the critic whose literary judgment she most valued. 
Let us glance for a moment at her pleased report- 
ing of some of his judgments : — 

" Henry has this moment said that he likes my ' M. 
P.' better and better; he is now in the third volume. 
I believe now he has changed his mind as to foresee- 
ing the end; he said yesterday, at least, that he de- 



1 74 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

fied anybody to say whether H. C, would be reformed, 
or would forget Fanny in a fortnight. . . . Henry has 
finished 'Mansfield Park;' and his approbation has 
not lessened. He found the last half of the last vol- 
ume extremely interesting.''' 

To my thinking there is something very delight- 
ful in the unselfish enjoyment which the Austen 
kindred took in the achievements of their most 
gifted member. Just as in the old days at the 
rectory at Steventon the young people there had 
freely applauded the juvenile sketches of little 
Jane, so now as men and women in middle life they 
maintained the same hearty, unaffected interest in 
her writing, with never a trace of envy present to 
mar it. She wrote and was happy in the writing. 
The brothers and sister read and delighted in the 
reading, one and all. Their approval, and that of 
the nephews and nieces who were now old enough 
to read her books, supplied her with sufficient in- 
centive to proceed, although, as we have seen, the 
applause of a wider circle of readers afforded her 
much gratification. 

As usual, there was much play- going on the part 
of Jane and her brother, who seem to have been 
fonder of this amusement than any others of the 
family ; and at this time she saw Kean as Shylock, 
and "could not imagine better acting." She likewise 
heard Coffey's ballad farce, " The Devil to Pay," 
which very much amused her, Arne's opera of 
" Artaxerxes," and Dibdin's comic opera of "The 
Farmer's Wife," which does not seem to have 



RETURN TO LONDON WITH HENRY, i 



75 



yielded her unbounded delight, for she remarks of 
the chief singer : " Her merit in singing is, I dare 
say, great; that she gave me no pleasure is no re- 
flection upon her, nor, I hope, upon myself, being 
what Nature made me upon that article. All that I 
am sensible of in Miss S. is a pleasing person and 
no skill in acting." 

As usual, too, the London shop-windows held 
out many temptations to Jane, who was never indif- 
ferent about what she wore, and had a weakness for 
becoming coiffures in particular. Cassandra is 
therefore informed that there are " a great many 
pretty caps in the windows of Cranbourn Alley. 
I hope when you come we shall both be tempted. 
I have been ruining myself in black satin ribbon 
with a proper pearl edge ; and now I am trying to 
draw it up into a kind of roses, instead of putting 
it in plain double plaits." 

Just what sort of gowns she was wearing at this 
time we learn from the following item : — 

11 1 have determined to trim my lilac sarsnet with 
black satin ribbon, just as my China crape is, 6d. 
width at the bottom, 3^. or ^d. at top. Ribbon 
trimmings are all the fashion at Bath, and I dare say 
the fashions of the two places are alike enough in that 
point to content me. With this addition it will be 
a very useful gown, happy to go anywhere." 

During April, May, and June of 1814, Edward 
Knight and his family were living at Chawton House 
instead of at Godmersham ; and the intercourse be- 



176 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

tween cottage and great house consequently was 
of the most uninterrupted character. When the 
cottage was not dining at the great house, the 
latter was dining at the cottage ; and Jane and her 
favorite niece appear by the entries in the latter's 
diary to have been almost inseparable. Sometimes 
they walked to Alton on shopping expeditions, and 
very often they roamed about Chawton Park, its 
gardens, and stretch of forest in company ; and 
as nearly, as it was possible for any human being 
to do, the niece supplied to Jane the place of her 
sister Cassandra, now with Henry Austen in Lon- 
don. The path across "the Pasture" from the 
village to the great house was one often trodden 
by Jane whenever her brother's family were resi- 
dent there ; and one of her nieces who was living 
within the past five years vividly recalled in old 
age the figure of her Aunt Jane walking along this 
path with head a little to one side, and sometimes 
a very small cushion pressed against her cheek, if 
she were suffering from face-ache, as she not un- 
frequently did in later life. 

Sometime in the summer of 1814 " Mansfield 
Park " appeared in print ; but the only allusion to 
the fact which her letters afford is a scrap of com- 
mendation quoted from her friends the Cookes, 
whom she appears to have visited in July or late in 
June : — 

" In addition to their other claims on me they 
admire 'Mansfield Park' exceedingly. Mr. Cooke 
says 'it is the most sensible novel he ever read,' and 



MARRIA GE OF HENR Y A US TEN. 



177 



the manner in which I treat the clergy delights them 
very much." 

In August, Henry Austen having lately removed 
from Henrietta Street to 23 Hans Place, Jane vis- 
ited him in his new quarters, which she calls de- 
lightful, and adds that they more than met her 
expectations, the garden being "quite a love." 
The real object of the change of residence seems 
to be revealed in the following passage, relating 
to her brother : — 

" Henry wants me to see more of his Hanwell favor- 
ite, and has written to invite her to spend a day or two 
here with me. His scheme is to fetch her on Satur- 
day. I am more and more convinced that he will 
marry again soon, and like the idea of her better 
than of anybody else at hand." 

How serious the nature of Mr. Henry Austen's 
attentions to " his Hanwell favorite " we shall prob- 
ably never know ; for however much his feelings 
may have been interested, he remained a widower 
until some time after Jane's death, when he mar- 
ried Miss Eleanor Jackson of London, who was 
presumably not the " Hanwell favorite." During 
these visits Jane of course was hostess to her 
brother's many friends ; and she writes in amus- 
ing fashion of some expected guests whom she 
was to entertain at dinner, — 

" Mr. Hampson dines here to-morrow, and proposed 
bringing his son ; so I must submit to seeing George 
12 



17 8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Hampson, though I had hoped to go through life with- 
out it. It was one of my vanities, like your not read- 



As will have been noted in the course of these 
pages, Jane Austen's journeys, though frequent, 
were not extended or greatly varied. London she 
knew well, and the south of England, from Canter- 
bury on the east to Exeter and its vicinity on the 
west; but except for a casual reference there is 
nothing in her correspondence to show that she was 
ever fifty miles north of London in her life. That 
on one occasion, however, she must have travelled 
in Scotland would seem to be clear, from the inci- 
dental reference just mentioned, which occurs in a 
letter of August, 1814. She is describing her jour- 
ney to London in an over- crowded coach, and de- 
clares that " it put me in mind of my own coach 
between Edinburgh and Stirling." 

It appears just a little singular that she should 
have made so important a journey as this implies, 
for a trip to Scotland was not lightly undertaken 
by south of England people in those days ; but the 
circumstance appears nowhere else in her corre- 
spondence. She who was so alive to the beauty of 
Lyme-Regis could not certainly have remained in- 
sensible to the scenes which must have met her 
eyes in such a tour as this. As, however, it is still 
uncertain that we have the whole of her corre- 
spondence with her sister, the absence of detail re- 
garding it is partially explainable. It becomes still 
more so when we reflect that very few of her other 



ADVICE TO HER NIECE. j^ 

letters have been preserved, or, what amounts to 
the same thing, printed. 

During the year 1 8 1 4, Jane maintained an active 
correspondence with her niece, Anna Austen, who 
was then engaged upon a novel, the manuscript of 
which she submitted to her aunt Jane in the early 
summer for her advice and criticism. Jane's first 
letters to her niece show the ready interest she took 
in the younger woman's work, and her willingness 
to aid when she could : — 

" I am very much obliged to you for sending 
your MS. It has entertained me extremely, — in- 
deed, all of us. I read it aloud to your Grandmamma 
and Aunt Cass., and we were all very much pleased. 
The spirit does not droop at all. Sir Thos., Lady 
Helen, and St. Julian are very well done ; and Cecilia 
continues to' be interesting in spite of her being so 
amiable. ... I like the beginning of Devereux For- 
ester very much ; a great deal better than if he had 
been very good or very bad. ... I do not like a lover 
speaking in the 3rd person. . . . /think it not natural." 

This was in June ; and in August the aunt writes 
on the same subject, — 

" 1 like the name ' Which is the Heroine ? ' very well, 
and I dare say shall grow to like ir very much in time ; 
but ' Enthusiasm ' was something so very superior that 
my common title must appear to disadvantage. . . . 
My corrections have not been more important than 
heretofore ; here and there we have thought the sense 
could be expressed in fewer words, and I have scratched 
out Sir Thos. from walking with the others to the 
stables, &c, the very day after breaking his arm ; for 



!8o JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

though I find your papa did walk out immediately after 
his arm was set, I think it can be so little usual as to 
appear unnatural in a book. Lynn will not do. Lynn 
is towards forty miles from Dawlish, and would not be 
talked of there. I have put Starcross instead. . . . 

" I have also scratched out the introduction between 
Lord Portman and his brother and Mr. Griffin. A 
country surgeon (don't tell Mr. C. Lyford) would not 
be introduced to men of their rank; and when Mr. P. 
is first brought in, he would not be introduced as the 
Honourable. That distinction is never mentioned at 
such times, — at least, I believe not. . . . Let the Port- 
mans go to Ireland ; but as you know nothing of the 
manners there, you had better not go with them. You 
will be in danger of giving false representations. Stick 
to Bath and the Foresters. There you will be quite 
at home." 

In giving this last piece of advice, Jane was fol- 
lowing strictly in the line she had long ago marked 
out for herself, — that of describing only localities, 
customs, and people with which she was thoroughly 
familiar. The care she took in reference to small 
matters in her own novels is hinted at in the in- 
structions to her niece. " Starcross," which she 
inserted in place of Lynn, is but a few miles from 
Dawlish, and would naturally be more talked of 
there than another town forty miles away. It is a 
trifle, like the other matters objected to ; but to 
Jane Austen anything which jarred against the 
probabilities, however slightly, ceased to be a trifle. 

In a letter of September 9, written after reading 
more of the manuscript, which the niece was for- 



LITERARY SUGGESTIONS. 181 

warding as she wrote, a few chapters at a time, there 
is more minuteness of criticism : — 

" You describe a sweet place ; but your descrip- 
tions are often more minute than will be liked. You 
give too many particulars of right hand and left. Mrs. 
Forester is not careful enough of Susan's health. Su- 
san ought not to be walking out so soon after heavy 
rains, taking long walks in the dirt. An anxious 
mother would not suffer it. I like your Susan ... as 
she is now exceedingly ; but I am not quite so well 
satisfied with her behavior to George R. At first she 
seems all over attachment and feeling, and afterwards 
to have none at all ; she is so extremely confused 
at the ball, and so well satisfied apparently with Mr. 
Morgan. She seems to have changed her character."' 

More suggestions follow a fortnight later : — 

" Devereux Forester's being ruined by his vanity 
is extremely good ; but I wish you would not let him 
plunge into a 'vortex of dissipation.' I do. not object 
to the thing, but I cannot bear the expression ; it is 
such thorough novel slang, and so old that I dare say 
Adam met with it in the first novel he opened. . . . 
What can you do with Egerton to increase the interest 
for him ? . . . He might lend all his money to Cap- 
tain Morris ; but then he would be a great fool if 
he did. Cannot the Morrises quarrel, and he re- 
concile them ? Excuse the liberty I take in these 



Early in November the niece to whom these 
bits of advice were addressed became the wife of 
Benjamin Lefroy, the son of Jane's early friend. 
The young couple removed at once to Hendon, a 



182 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

few miles from London ; and Jane tells her niece to 
" make everybody at Hendon admire * Mansfield 
Park.' " 

Before the end of November the aunt, who had 
now gone to visit her brother in London, drove 
with him to Hendon to see the young people, 
from which expedition she returned much pleased. 
The marriage does not seem to have occasioned 
any serious break in the new Mrs. Lefroy's literary 
labors ; for early in December she sent to her 
aunt another instalment of the story, and Jane's 
response to this enclosure is just as unwea- 
riedly kind as if she had not been occupied for 
the previous six months in advising and suggest- 
ing about innumerable previous pages. She com- 
ments on one of the incidents of the tale in her 
usual animated strain, — 

" St. Julian's having been in love with the aunt gives 
Cecilia an additional interest with him. I like the 
idea, — a very proper compliment to an aunt ! I rathe* 
imagine, indeed, that nieces are seldom chosen but 
out of compliment to some aunt or other. I dare sa} 
Ben was in love with me once, and would never have 
thought of you if he had not supposed me dead oi 
scarlet fever/' 

Whether Mrs. Anna Lefroy's novel was evei 
finished is doubtful. Other interests probabl) 
entered her life, and her literary aspirations faded 
out of sight. Her stepbrother, Mr. Austen- Leigh, 
asserts that it never was published. Certainly, 
at this point it disappears entirely from the cor- 



MRS. LEFROY'S NOVEL. 



183 



respondence. In August following the Lefroys 
removed from Hendon to a small estate called 
Wyards, near Alton, and within an easy walk 
of Chawton ; and to this place her aunt's next let- 
ter which has been preserved is addressed. It 
is a note, bearing date of September 29, and 
includes no mention of the novel which had oc- 
cupied the chief portion of the correspondence 
between the two the year previous. Very possibly 
the aunt had foreseen the probable result of her 
niece's labors, but forbore, with characteristic 
thoughtfulness, to say a word of discouragement, 
trusting that time would convince the young 
author of the futility of her labors. Certain of 
her criticisms make it tolerably clear to my 
mind that she could never have entertained any 
strong hopes of the book's success if printed. 
Yet however this may have been, her time was 
given for her niece's benefit freely and ungrudg- 
ingly. But indeed no confidence that was re- 
posed in Jane Austen's kindness of heart was 
ever misplaced. 



IX. 



LAST YEARS AT CHAWTON; "EMMA;" "PER- 
SUASION." 

TN the month of October, 1815, Henry Austen 
* was again taken ill ; and on this occasion his 
condition was considered more critical than it had 
ever been in previous seizures. His sister jane, 
who was at this time staying with him to attend 
to the publication of " Emma," became much 
alarmed, and on the 2 2d of the month wrote for 
her brother James and Cassandra, and the day 
following for her brother Edward, as she feared 
the low fever which had prostrated him was likely 
to prove fatal. It was an illness which in its ulti- 
mate consequences concerned a greater number 
of people than the Austen connection, large as 
that was. The world could better have spared a 
Henry Austen than a Jane ; yet the handsome, 
accomplished man, who had spent all his life in 
drifting from one thing to another, full of schemes 
which came to little, and who succeeded in nothing 
except in being always fascinating and agreeable, 
was destined to live five and thirty years longer, 
while his sister, in the midst of her devotion to his 
needs at this time, undoubtedly contracted the 



LAST YEARS AT CHAWTON. 185 

disease which, developing slowly but surely, ended 
her own life less than two years after. 

Although this was a sharp sickness, Mr. Austen 
seems to have been so far convalescent in another 
week that his brothers could return to their homes 
relieved of their fears in great part. Cassandra re- 
mained with her brother and sister until November 
20, when she returned to Chawton with Edward 
Knight, who, with his daughter Fanny, had again 
visited his brother Henry for a few days. The 
niece, however, stayed until the 8th of December ; 
and the invalid's condition having rapidly im- 
proved, they were able to enjoy each other's society 
without feeling the weight of so much anxiety as 
had hitherto been borne by the entire family to a 
certain extent, but especially by Jane. : 

" Emma," which Jane had been busied over in 
Chawton for many months previously, and which 
had been nearly finished as long ago as March, 
was now advertised to appear on Saturday, Dec. 
16, 181 5. It seems to have gone more rapidly 
through the press than its predecessors had done, 
especially the later chapters of it ; and a rapid suc- 
cession of proof-sheets was kept circulating between 
her brother's house in Hans Place and Mr. Murray's 
printing-office. The labor and thought involved in 
the proper attention to them must have been no 
light burden to bear at a time when her brother's 
state of health demanded a large amount of watch- 
ful care from her. These were the last proof-sheets 
that she was ever to concern herself with, and 



1 86 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

" Emma " the last book of hers she was destined 
to behold in print. 

The fact of her authorship of the three fore- 
going novels had for many months been practi- 
cally an open secret. It could not help being 
such, now that the knowledge was shared by so 
large a circle of relatives and friends ; and she 
had ceased to care greatly that the personality 
of the author should remain unknown. Chance, 
however, brought her name prominently before 
the world. 

Her brother's physician had been one of the 
medical attendants of the Prince Regent ; and know- 
ing that his patient's sister was the author of " Sense 
and Sensibility " and the two novels by the same 
hand which had succeeded it, he informed her, no 
doubt to her great surprise, that the books in ques- 
tion were greatly admired by the Prince, who read 
them often, and kept a set in each of his royal resi- 
dences. He further observed that he had told the 
Prince that the author of the tales which had so 
much delighted him was then in London, and that 
His Royal Highness had requested his librarian at 
Carlton House, Mr. J. S. Clarke, to call upon her. 
This unexpected information pleased her, no doubt ; 
but it does not appear that the notice of the Prince 
Regent, whom she styles in her letters the " P. R.," 
was unduly valued by her, nor that she was especially 
overcome by the royal condescension when Mr. 
Clarke called upon her next day and invited her to 
Carlton House, adding that the Prince Regent had 



"EMMA." 187 

desired him to admit her to the library and other 
apartments, and show her every attention. 

Naturally enough the invitation was accepted ; 
and while the courteous librarian was doing the 
honors, — for the admiration of the future George 
the Fourth for her books was not so great as to in- 
spire him with a desire to behold their author, — 
he informed her that the Regent had graciously 
directed him to say that if she intended writing 
another novel, she was at liberty to dedicate it to 
His Royal Highness. 

The First Gentleman of Europe has very few claims 
upon the regard of posterity ; but it must always 
be set down to his credit that at a time when the 
average standard of literary taste was so radically 
opposed to that which finds its gratification in work 
like Miss Austen's, he was sufficiently acute to per- 
ceive and admire her peculiar and distinctive excel- 
lence ; and it must be admitted that from his point of 
view he paid to her one of the highest compliments 
he knew how to bestow. The dedication for which 
he thus gave permission was accordingly prefixed to 
" Emma," then nearly through the press, and led 
to a correspondence between Jane Austen and the 
courteous librarian, whose own admiration for her 
talents, although perfectly sincere, is curiously 
wanting in any adequate comprehension of their 
scope. His royal patron would hardly have fallen 
into a misapprehension like that revealed in the 
letters by Mr. Clarke which follow. Not knowing 
how far she might rely upon the verbal permission 



1 88 JANE AUSTEN'S LIEE. 

given on the occasion of her visit, Miss Austen 
soon after wrote to Mr. Clarke in relation to the 
matter : — 

Nov. 15, 1815. 
Sir, — I must take the liberty of asking you a ques- 
tion. Among the many flattering attentions which I 
received from you at Carlton House on Monday last 
was the information of my being at liberty to dedicate 
any future work to His Royal Highness the Prince Re- 
gent without the necessity of any solicitation on my 
part. Such, at least, I believed to be your words ; but 
as I am very anxious to be quite certain of what was 
intended, I entreat you to have the goodness to inform 
me how such a permission is to be understood, and 
whether it is incumbent on me to show my sense of the 
honour by inscribing the work now in the press to His 
Royal Highness. I should be equally concerned to ap- 
pear either presumptuous or ungrateful. 

To this Mr. Clarke replied immediately, adding 
a most surprising suggestion of his own : — 

Carlton House (Nov. 16, 181 5) 
Dear Madam, — It is certainly not incumbent on 
you to dedicate your work now in the press to His 
Royal Highness ; but if you wish to do the Regent 
that honour either now or at any future period, I 
am happy to send you that permission, which need 
not require any more trouble or solicitation on your 
part. 

Your late works, Madam, and in particular " Mans- 
field Park," reflect the highest honour on your genius 
and your principles. In every new work your mind 
seems to increase its energy and power of discrimina- 
tion. The Regent has read and admired all your 
publications. 



MR. CLARKE'S SUGGESTIONS. 189 

Accept my best thanks for the pleasure your vol- 
umes have given me. In the perusal of them I felt a 
great inclination to write and say so ; and I also, dear 
Madam, wished to be allowed to ask you to delineate 
in some future work the habits of life, and character, 
and enthusiasm of a clergyman who should pass his 
time between the metropolis and the country, who 
should be something like Beattie's Minstrel, — 

" Silent when glad, affectionate tho' shy, 

And in his looks was most demurely sad; 
And now he laughed aloud, yet none knew why." 

Neither Goldsmith, nor La Fontaine in his " Tableau 
de Famille," have in my mind quite delineated an 
English clergyman, at least of the present day, fond 
of and entirely engaged in literature, no man's enemy 
but his own. Pray, dear Madam, think of these things. 
Believe me at all times with sincerity and respect, 
Your faithful and obliged servant, 

J. S. Clarke, Librarian. 

This kindly but rather stilted epistle, with its im- 
possible suggestion, must have given great amuse- 
ment to Jane and her brother ; but she answered 
its appeal with a grave courtesy, taking pains to 
show why she could not follow out the writer's plan, 
in a way that would have indicated to any person 
of moderately keen perceptions that her talent was 
not to be thus diverted from its natural channel. 

Dec. n. 
Dear Sir, — My "Emma" is now so near publica- 
tion that I feel it right to assure you of my not having 
forgotten your kind recommendation of an early copy 
for Carlton House, and that I have Mr. Murray's 
promise of its being sent to His Royal Highness, under 



190 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

cover to you, three days previous to the work being 
really out. I must make use of this opportunity to\ 
thank you, dear Sir, for the very high praise you bestow 
on my other novels. I am too vain to wish to convince 
you that you have praised them beyond their merits. 
My greatest anxiety at present is that this fourth work 
should not disgrace what was good in the others. But 
on this point 1 will do myself the justice to declare that 
whatever may be my wishes for its success, I am 
strongly haunted with the idea that to those readers 
who have preferred " Pride and Prejudice " it will ap- I 
pear inferior in wit, and to those who have preferred ; 
" Mansfield Park " inferior in good sense. Such as it is, I 
however, I hope you will do me the favour of accepting 
a copy. Mr. Murray will have directions for sending 
one. I am quite honoured by your thinking me capa- 
ble of drawing such a clergyman as you gave the sketch 
of in your note of Nov. 16th. But I assure you I am 
not The comic part of the character I might be equal 
to, but not the good, the enthusiastic, the literary. 
Such a man's conversation must at times be on sub- 
jects of science and philosophy, of which I know 
nothing, or at least be occasionally abundant in quota- 
tions and allusions which a woman who, like me, knows 
only her own mother-tongue, and has read little in 
that, would be totally without the power of giving. A 
classical education, or at any rate a very extensive 
acquaintance with English literature, ancient and 
modern, appears to me quite indispensable for the per- 
son who would do any justice to your clergyman ; and 
I think I may boast myself to be, with all possible van- 
ity, the most unlearned and uninformed female who 
ever dared to be an authoress 

Believe me, dear Sir, 
Your obliged and faithful hum bl ser f ., 

Jane Austen. 



MR. CLARKE'S SUGGESTIONS. I9I 

"Mr. Clarke, however," says Mr. Austen- Leigh, 
" was not to be discouraged from proposing another 
subject. He had recently been appointed chaplain 
and private English secretary to Prince Leopold, who 
was then about to be united to the Princess Char- 
lotte ; and when he again wrote to express the gra- 
cious thanks of the Prince Regent for the copy of 
' Emma ' which had been presented, he suggests that 
' an historical romance illustrative of the august House 
of Cobourg would just now be very interesting,' and 
might very properly be dedicated to Prince Leopold. 
This was much as if Sir William Ross had been set to 
paint a great battle-piece ; and it is amusing to see 
with what grave civility she declined a proposal which 
must have struck her as ludicrous, in the following 
letter:" — 

My dear Sir, — I am honoured by the Prince's 
thanks, and very much obliged to yourself for the kind 
manner in which you mention the work. I have also 
to acknowledge a former letter forwarded to me from 
Hans Place I assure you I felt very grateful for the 
friendly tenor of it, and hope my silence will have 
been considered, as it was truly meant, to proceed 
only from an unwillingness to tax your time with idle 
thanks. Under every interesting circumstance which 
your own talents and literary labours have placed you 
in, or the favour of the Regent bestowed, you have my 
best wishes. Your recent appointments I hope are a 
step to something still better' In my opinion, the ser- 
vice of a court can hardly be too well paid, for im- 
mense must be the sacrifice of time and feeling re- 
quired by it. 

You are very kind in your hints as to the sort of 
composition which might recommend me at present; 
and I am fully sensible that an historical romance, 



192 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

founded on the House of Saxe-Cobourg, might be 
much more to the purpose of profit or popularity than 
such pictures of domestic life in country villages as I 
deal in. But I could no more write a romance than 
an epic poem. I could not sit seriously down to write 
a serious romance under any other motive than to 
save my life ; and if it were indispensable for me to 
keep it up and never relax into laughing at myself or 
at other people, I am sure I should be hung before I 
had finished the first chapter. No, I must keep to 
my own style and go on in my own way ; and though 
I may never succeed again in that, I am convinced 
that I should totally fail in any other. 
I remain, my dear Sir, 
Your very much obliged and sincere friend, 

J. Austen. 
Chawton, near Alton, April i, 1816 

It is satisfactory to be able to add that this let- 
ter silenced, if it did not convince, the librarian 
of Carlton House, and that he offered no further 
suggestions. 

While "Emma" was receiving its last correc- 
tions in the proof, its author had also been going 
carefully through the pages of " Mansfield Park," 
and making such changes as her critical sense dic- 
tated, returning it to Mr. Murray on December 11, 
" as ready for a second edition as I can make it," 
she tells him. No wonder that the weight of 
care and anxiety on her brother's behalf, coming 
at a period when necessity obliged her to spend 
long hours over the innumerable proof sheets of 
" Emma " and this final revision of " Mansfield 
Park," should have pressed heavily upon her. 



CATHERINE." 



J 93 



There is no mention of her being out of health in 
these months, and it was not until the subsequent 
spring that she began visibly to decline ; but the 
burdens of the autumn had already done their fatal 
work upon her, though neither she nor her friends 
suspected it. 

About the middle of December she returned to 
Chawton ; and the next intelligence we have of her 
is contained in a letter to her niece, Fanny, dated 
the 20th of the following February, in which she 
speaks of having been ill with rheumatism and 
tenderly nursed by her sister ; but in spite of this 
indisposition she was able to do some sisterly 
offices for the brother whose devoted nurse she 
had been a few months before, for she mentions 
having completed the marking of some of his 
shirts. In the next letter, dated March 13, is an 
item of importance as showing how persistent her 
literary labors were in the last years of her life in 
spite of many hindrances : — 

11 1 will answer your kind questions more than you 
expect. 'Miss Catherine" is put upon the shelf for 
the present, and I do not know that she will ever 
come out ; but I have a something ready for publica- 
tion which may perhaps appear about a twelvemonth 
hence. It is short, — about the length of ' Catherine.' 
This is for yourself alone." 

Mr. Austen -Leigh in his biography makes no 

mention of " Catherine ; " and I am not aware that 

this reference to it appears to have been noticed 

by any writer upon Jane Austen. Its author proba- 

13 



i 94 JANE AUSTENS LIFE. 

bly never subjected it to revision, from the feeling 
that it was not up to the level of her other work, 
and took care that it should not be published. All 
that is known of it is what is contained in the pas- 
sage quoted. The book was called " Catherine," 
and was short. It can hardly fail to have been 
better than " Lady Susan , " and I am led to wish 
that this and not " Lady Susan " had fallen into 
her nephew's hands when he decided to give to 
the world a hitherto unpublished story by his illus- 
trious aunt. 

The other work mentioned as " ready for publi- 
cation " must have been the first draft of " Persua- 
sion," though one is at a loss to know how she 
had found time to write it with all she had had to 
occupy her. The information that it might appear 
" about a twelvemonth hence " would seem to 
imply that she intended to extend and amplify it 
in the intervening time. Ten days later, however, 
she tells her niece, — 

" Do not be surprised at finding Uncle Henry ac- 
quainted with my having another ready for publication. 
I could not say No when he asked me, but he knows 
nothing more of it. You will not like it, so you need 
not be impatient. You may perhaps like the heroine, 
as she is almost too good for me." 

However nearly ready for the printer the book, 
if "Persuasion " be here meant, may have seemed 
to her at this time, she certainly soon altered her 
mind concerning it, either rewriting or very mate- 
rially enlarging it, as we shall have occasion later to 
observe. 



"persuasion: 



95 



In this letter, which was written on the 23d of 
March, she confesses that she has " certainly not 
been well for many weeks." About a week ago, 
she adds, — 

" I was very poorly. I have had a good deal of 
fever at times, and indifferent nights; but I am con- 
siderably better now, and am recovering my looks a 
little, which have been bad enough, — black and white 
and every wrong colour. I must not depend upon being 
ever very blooming again. Sickness is a dangerous 
indulgence at my time of life." 

It was while her health was thus undermined 
that the bank in which Henry Austen had for some 
time been a partner failed, involving him and many 
of the members of the Austen kindred in serious 
loss. This trouble was very greatly felt by Jane, 
who not far from this time was visiting her friends 
the Fowles in Berkshire. She had by no means 
recovered from the strain of the previous autumn, 
as we have just seen, and was consequently less 
able to bear the trial than the others of the family. 
Her Berkshire friends perceived a great change in 
her appearance ; and it became very evident to all 
who saw her that she was certainly very far from 
well. Still she was busy at her little mahogany 
desk a good deal of the time, for she was at work 
upon " Persuasion," which was undergoing revision 
or rewriting, if we assume this to have been the 
work to which she alludes in March ; and on July 
16 she brought it to its first conclusion. 

For a time in the spring her usual cheerfulness 



196 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

deserted her. The winter's rheumatism had been 
followed, as we have already seen, by the bilious 
fever, and this in turn by the family troubles ; and 
writing of all this to her brother Charles, then liv- 
ing in Keppel Street in London, she says : " I live 
upstairs for the present, and am coddled. I am 
the only one of the party who has been so silly, 
but a weak body must excuse weak nerves." 

To another correspondent she remarks, " I am 
getting too near complaint ; it has been the ap- 
pointment of God, however secondary causes may 
have operated." 

The depression which she felt was a perfectly 
natural one ; and the only wonder is that consid- 
ering all the circumstances which caused it, it was 
not only greater than it was, but more prolonged. 
The feeling never seems to have become so strong 
as to deserve the name of despondency, and was 
not of long duration. When the temporary cloud 
had lifted, she was as cheerful as ever. 

Early in the spring a donkey- carriage was ob- 
tained for her benefit; and on the 23d of March 
she writes to her niece Fanny in regard to it : 

" I took my first ride yesterday, and liked it very 
much. I went up Mounter's Lane and round by where 
the new cottages are to be, and found the exercise and 
everything very pleasant; and I had the advantage of 
agreeable companions, as At. Cass, and Edward walked 
by my side." 

Then follows the little touch of sisterly affection 
which means so much : " At. Cass, is such an ex- 
cellent nurse, so assiduous and unwearied ! " 



"PERSUASION." I97 

As soon as her spirits had recovered their usual 
tone, manifold interests occupied her thoughts as 
usual \ and early in July she was writing in animated 
fashion to the nephew who became her biographer, 
and who was now near the end of his last year at 
Winchester College. The lad, having gone to his 
home at Steventon for a few days, had after dating 
his letter from there incautiously added that he 
was at home ; and his aunt rallies him upon his 
superfluity of detail : — 

" I am glad you recollected to mention your being 
come home. My heart began to sink within me when 
I had got so far through your letter without its being 
mentioned. I was dreadfully afraid that you might be 
detained at Winchester by severe illness, confined to 
your bed perhaps, and quite unable to hold a pen, and 
only dating from Steventon in order, with a mistaken 
sort of tenderness, to deceive me. But now I have no 
doubt of your being at home. I am sure you would 
not say it unless it actually were so." 

This was written on the 9th of July, and nine 
days later the first ending of " Persuasion " was 
reached. Always extremely critical in regard to 
the quality and finish of her work, the success of 
each book only impelled her to use greater care in 
the preparation of the next ; and on this occasion 
she was more than usually dissatisfied with her 
writing. The last chapter she felt to be a rather 
tame conclusion to what immediately preceded it ; 
and a brief season of depression was the conse- 
quence. One morning, however, after having gone 



i 9 8 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

to bed the evening previous in what were for her 
unusually low spirits, she set at work with all the 
old vigor ; and though she could necessarily write 
but little at a time, she had by the middle of 
August concluded " Persuasion " in a manner which 
satisfied her own exacting literary sense, as it has 
satisfied the demands of every critic since then. 

But it is far from easy to understand how she 
was able to accomplish all that she did in the last 
year that she was able to write. While " Persua- 
sion " was in hand she had been obliged to give up, 
one after another, many of her cherished habits. 
She was always extremely fond of walking ; but as 
summer came on, the walks grew shorter, and at 
last ceased altogether. Then recourse was had to 
the donkey-carriage purchased at the time of her 
illness in the spring. In the letter from which the 
last quotation was made, she mentions starting for 
Farrington — a village between Chawton and Sel- 
borne — in this vehicle, but gives no hint of how dis- 
tasteful to her must have been such a conveyance 
when contrasted with her former active method 
of taking the air. Withindoors of course she 
could do less and less in addition to her writing ; 
and she had the pain of seeing her sister assume 
one by one the household duties which had been 
her own so long, fearing, as she must have begun 
to fear, that she would never again be strong 
enough to share Cassandra's cares as she had done 
since they were children. For a part of every day 
it became a habit with her now to lie down ; and 



"PERSUASION." 199 

lest she might deprive her aged mother from using 
the one sofa there was space for in the family 
room, she improvised for herself a couch of chairs, 
which it suited her to say was more comfortable 
for her than the sofa would have been. That this 
was not and could not have been strictly true will 
quickly enough be perceived ; but what can one 
do except to forgive the thoughtful deception and 
love her the better for it? It had always been her 
custom to pursue her literary tasks in the family 
sitting-room ; and as she once explained to a small 
niece who refused to be satisfied with anything but 
definite answers to her questions, if she had shown 
a desire to use the sofa in the intervals of her work 
her mother might not have felt willing to use it 
also as much as she needed to do. Perhaps Mrs. 
Austen, who was by no means wanting in perception, 
may have seen through her daughter's loving sub- 
terfuge. I like to think that she did, and that she 
was large-minded enough to respect in silence the 
unselfishness of a spirit which even in illness could 
yet prefer another's comfort to her own. 

" Persuasion " at last finished to her mind, Jane 
apparently regained some of her former degree of 
health. She still continued to spend a portion of 
every day at her writing-desk, but mainly in 
attending to her correspondence, which had not 
been wholly neglected even when she was engaged 
upon her novel during most of the hours in which 
she was able to write. Not far from this time she 
paid several short visits with her sister Cassandra, 



200 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

one of which was to her brother James and his 
family at Steventon. It was destined to be the 
last time she was ever to see the home of her 
childhood ; and though she may have had some 
presentiment of the fact, certainly none of her 
family foresaw it. In September Cassandra was 
staying for a short time at Cheltenham ; and on 
the 8th Jane wrote to her what was probably the 
last letter the other ever received from her, since 
after that date the two were not separated. 

In response to her sister's inquiries Jane says, 
"Thank you, my back has given me scarcely 
any pain for many days. I have an idea that the 
agitation does it as much harm as fatigue, and that 
I was ill at the time of your going from the very 
circumstance of your going," — a touching confes- 
sion, which shows how entire was now the depend- 
ence of the younger upon the older sister. 

She was certainly much better at this time than 
she had been in the spring, as is evidenced in her 
mention of what she was able to accomplish. The 
letter tells of her going to Alton on one occasion 
and walking home by moonlight. Even suppos- 
ing her to have walked but one way and to have 
gone only to the nearest part of Alton, the effort 
involved a walk of at least a mile ; company 
easily tired her, however, and much as she enjoyed 
seeing her brothers, Edward and Frank, their visits 
began to weary her, leaving her almost glad when 
they were gone, and desirous of " exemption from 
the thought and contrivancy which any sort of 



RE VEREND HENR Y A US TEN. 2 o I 

company gives. I often wonder how you can 
find time for what you do in addition to the care 
of the house." 

In one of the closing paragraphs of the letter 
her dislike to the then prevalent school of church- 
manship finds an utterance which is interesting to 
us as revealing by inference the nature of her 
religious preferences : " We do not much like 
Mr. Cooper's new sermons. They are fuller of 
regeneration and conversion than ever, with the 
addition of his zeal in the cause of the Bible 
Society." 

How the remainder of the autumn was spent by 
her we do not know ; but that it was a period of 
comparative comfort may be surmised from the fact 
that in January she speaks of having gained in 
strength. The gain was delusive, to be sure, but to 
all appearance it may have been real enough. 

After the failure of the bank the versatile and 
sanguine Henry Austen concluded to adopt the 
profession of his father and eldest brother ; and 
Jane refers to this in a letter to her nephew Ed- 
ward Austen, written on the 16 th of December. 
After congratulating the lad upon having left the 
college at Winchester for the university at Oxford, 
she observes, " Your uncle Henry writes very supe- 
rior sermons. You and I must try to get hold of 
one or two, and put them into our novels." 

This nephew too, we thus learn, was addicted to 
writing fiction ; but like his sister Anna's efforts in 
the same field, his own probably came to nothing, 



202 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

for all we hear of them in his biography of his 
aunt is merely this allusion in her letter to him. 
Regarding the sermons she continues, — 

"It would be a fine help to a volume ; and we could 
make our heroine read it aloud on a Sunday evening, 
just as well as Isabella Wardour in the ' Antiquary ' 
is made to read the * History of the Hartz Demon ' in 
the ruins of St. Ruth, though I believe upon recollec- 
tion Lovell is the reader. By the bye, my dear E., I am 
quite concerned for the loss your mother mentions in 
her letter. Two chapters and a half to be missing is 
monstrous ! It is well that I have not been at Steven- 
ton lately, and therefore cannot be suspected of pur- 
loining them ; two strong twigs and a half towards a 
nest of my own would have been something. I do 
not think, however, that any theft of that sort would 
be really very useful to me. What should I do with 
your strong, manly sketches, full of variety and glow ? 
How could I possibly join them on to the little bit 
(two inches wide) of ivory on which I work with so 
fine a brush as produces little effect after much 
labor?" 

In all probability Jane did not prophesy to her- 
self that her brilliant, disappointing, but wholly 
lovable brother would achieve a great amount of 
success in his new and sacred profession, and as a 
matter of fact he was actively engaged in it but 
two or three years, or while he held the living of 
Steventon after the death of his brother James and 
until his nephew William Knight was old enough 
to take it ; but she could and did appreciate his 
gifts as a sermonizer, in which capacity he may very 
possibly have surpassed his brother James. 



READS SOUTHEY. 



203 



In a letter to her friend Miss Bigg, dated Jan. 
24, 181 7, we note one more reference to her 
brother Henry as a clergyman : — 

" Our own new clergyman is expected here very 
soon, perhaps in time to assist Mr. Papillon on Sun- 
day. I shall be very glad when the first hearing is 
over. It will be a nervous hour for our pew, though 
we hear that he acquits himself with as much ease and 
collectedness as if he had been used to it all his life." 

Her own bit of literary self- description has been 
often quoted apart from its context ; but I think it 
gains in force when contrasted with her generous 
approval of her nephew's work. She recognized 
very fully the limits of her art, but possibly did 
not so readily appreciate what that " fine brush " 
of hers was actually accomplishing within those 
limits. 

In this letter of January 24 occurs a reference 
to a poem of Southey she was reading at the time, 
which if for no other reason is of interest because 
it is the last book which she mentions as having 
read. It had been in print but a few months at 
this time. 

" We have been reading ' The Poet's Pilgrimage to 
Waterloo,' and generally with much approbation. 
Nothing will please all the world, you know ; but parts 
of it suit me better than much that he has written be- 
fore. The opening — the proem, I believe he calls it — 
is very beautiful. Poor man ! one cannot but grieve 
for the loss of the son so fondly described." 



204 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Some portion of the last months of 1816 was no 
doubt devoted by her to preparing " Persuasion " 
for the press ; and then upon the 2 7th of January, 
according to the date she placed upon her manu- 
script, she began a new novel upon which she 
worked industriously for seven weeks, the last lines 
being written on the 1 7th of March. In that time 
twelve chapters were written, — an extraordinary 
amount of work when her physical condition is 
considered. Although she had written to one of 
her nieces about the period when the task was 
begun in so hopeful a strain as this, " I feel my- 
self getting stronger than I was, and can so per- 
fectly walk to Alton, or back again without fatigue, 
that I hope to be able to do both when summer 
comes," she must have been much weaker in 
reality than she thought herself. As spring came 
on, the illusory strength of the winter melted away 
with the snow. "The chief part of this manu- 
script," says her nephew, " is written in her usual 
firm, neat hand, but some of the later pages seem 
to have been first traced in pencil, probably when 
she was too weak to sit at her desk, and written 
over in ink afterwards." 

There is an indescribable pathos of suggestion 
in these words of his. Now that life was so nearly 
over for her she experienced more strongly than 
she had ever done the impulse to write, feeling, it 
may have been, as each day brought her nearer to 
the unseen, a sense within herself of powers greater 
than had yet been fully shown. And it was all in 



THE UNFINISHED TASK. 205 

vain. One by one the days passed, each as it went 
leaving her perceptibly weaker and stealing from 
her ringers a little of their pliant strength, till the 
firm, clear writing grew by degrees tremulous and 
irregular, and the pen dropped at last from the 
hand that could no longer hold it. It must have 
been a bitter moment when the realization came to 
her, as it must assuredly have one day come, that 
it was all for nothing that she had been working, 
that the patient careful labor of those long weeks 
would never give delight to the world like the 
works which had gone before it, and that always 
and forever — 

" The unfinished window in Aladdin's tower 
Unfinished must remain." 

I cannot think, as some persons have done, that 
this fragment of a story upon which her latest 
strength was expended is of but little worth. To 
my mind it is full of the charm which attaches to 
all her writing. But I will not undertake its de- 
fence. It is but an unrevised fragment merely, 
and to criticise it in that condition were the height 
of unfairness. It is the very last work outlined by 
a woman of superlative talent, or, shall we not say, 
genius? The artist's plan is undefined ; the back- 
ground is vague and uncertain, and the purpose of 
many lines remains a mystery never to be un- 
folded. But it is an artist's work, left just as the 
artist turned from it one day to answer a sudden 
summons, and as such should be sacred from all 
irreverent touch. 



X. 

LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 

\ I J HEN the pen was finally laid aside, the 
* ^ Austen family recognized, what seemingly 
they had not done previously, that the beloved 
daughter and sister was so ill as to justify the 
gravest apprehensions. So long as she could pay 
short visits to her friends, or take her rides in 
the donkey- carriage, or, failing strength for these 
things, could sit and write a short time each day, 
they had not felt that she was greatly out of health. 
But the pen laid down, and the chair pushed aside 
from the little mahogany desk, made her actual 
condition no longer a matter of doubt to any of 
them. Her niece Caroline, the twelve-year-old 
daughter of James Austen, was to have paid a visit 
at her grandmother's near the beginning of April ; 
but Aunt Jane was then too feeble to have com- 
pany in the house, and Caroline went to the house 
of her sister, Mrs. Anna Lefroy, which was not far 
away. 

" The next day," writes the niece, "we walked over 
to Chawton to make enquiries after our aunt. She 
was then keeping her room, but said she would see 
us, and we went up to her. She was in her dressing- 



LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 



207 



gown, and was sitting quite like an invalid in an arm- 
chair; but she got up and kindly greeted us, and then 
pointing to seats which had been arranged for us by 
the fire, she said, ' There is a chair for the married 
lady, and a little stool for you, Caroline.' It is strange, 
but these trifling words were the last of hers that I 
can remember, for I retain no recollection of what 
was said by any one in the conversation that ensued. 
I was struck by the alteration in herself. She was 
very pale ; her voice was weak and low ; and there 
was about her a general appearance of debility and 
suffering ; but I have been told that she never had 
much acute pain. She was not equal to the exer- 
tion of talking to us, and our visit to the sick-room 
was a very short one, Aunt Cassandra soon taking us 
away." 

The month of April passed, and May followed, 
but brought with it little change for the better in 
the invalid's condition ; and on the 24th, in the 
company of her sister and her brother Henry, she 
went to Winchester to be under the care of a 
noted physician of that town, Mr. Lyford. He 
belonged to a family of medical men, and his skill 
was much esteemed beyond the borders of Hamp- 
shire, London physicians having expressed much 
confidence in him. From the first he appears to 
have had, according to Mr. Austen- Leigh, but 
slight hope of effecting his patient's permanent 
cure ; but he spoke cheerfully, thinking perhaps 
that with care so valuable a life might be pro- 
longed for a number of months at least. 

Along the southern wall of the Close at Win- 
chester is a narrow thoroughfare called College 



208 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Street, which extends easterly from Kingsgate 
Street to a little beyond a clear, rapidly flowing 
branch of the Itchen, near which it turns abruptly 
to the south, skirting the high, walled garden of 
the warden of the college. On the left hand, be- 
tween the roadway and the wall of the Close, are 
a few houses and some narrow gardens ; and on the 
right the street is lined with plain brick dwellings 
for a quarter of its length, and for the remainder by 
the long, frontage of the outer buildings belonging 
to the ancient College of William of Wykeham. 
The last of these houses to the right, which adjoins 
the Commoners' entrance to the college, was then 
owned and occupied by a Mrs. David, — a respec- 
table woman in middle life who let a portion of 
her house to lodgers. After her death in 1843 
the property passed to her nephew and thence to 
his son, Mr. La Croix, now an elderly man, whose 
skill as a pastry-cook has been tested by gener- 
ation after generation of William of Wykeham's 
sons. 

It was in this building, now occupied by the 
estimable Mr. La Croix, that Cassandra Austen 
had engaged lodgings for her sister and herself, 
the locality being chosen, very likely, from its 
close vicinity to the home of their friends Mrs. 
Heathcote and her sister, Miss Bigg, who lived in 
one of the canon's houses in the Close. A very 
short walk under little St. Swithin's Church over 
the Kingsgate and then across the Close, after 
passing its venerable seldom-closed gates, was all 




u 



LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 209 

the journey required for Cassandra to take to sum- 
mon their aid at any time. To these friends the 
sisters owed many a thoughtful attention, receiving 
not only the pleasure of their society, but such 
additions to their lodging-house comforts as would 
naturally suggest themselves to lifelong friends to 
furnish. The removal from Chawton to Winchester 
had taken place on Saturday, and on the Tuesday 
succeeding Jane wrote to the nephew last men- 
tioned the following note, almost the latest piece 
of her writing which we possess : — 

Mrs. David's, College St., Winton, 
Tuesday, May 27. 

There is no better way, my dearest E., of thanking 
you for your affectionate concern for me during my 
illness than my telling you myself, as soon as possible, 
that I continue to get better. I will not boast of my 
handwriting ; neither that nor my face have yet re- 
covered their proper beauty, but in other respects I 
gain very fast. I am now out of bed from 9 in the 
morning to 10 at night : upon the sofa, it is true, but 
I eat my meals with aunt Cassandra in a rational way, 
and can employ myself, and walk from one room to 
another. Mr. Lyford says he will cure me ; and if he 
fails, I shall draw up a memorial and lay it before the 
Dean and Chapter, and have no doubt of redress from 
that pious, learned, and disinterested body. Our lodg- 
ings are very comfortable. We have a neat little 
drawing-room with a bow-window overlooking Dr. 
Gabell's garden. Thanks to the kindness of your 
father and mother in sending me their carriage, my 
journey hither on Saturday was performed with very 
little fatigue, and had it been a fine day, I think I 
14 



210 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

should have felt none ; but it distressed me to see 
uncle Henry and Wm. Knight, who kindly attended 
us on horseback, riding in the rain almost the whole 
way. We expect a visit from them to-morrow, and 
hope they will stay the night; and on Thursday, which 
is a confirmation and a holiday, we are to get Charles 
out to breakfast We have had but one visit from him, 
poor fellow, as he is in sick-room ; but he hopes to be 
out to-night. We see Mrs. Heathcote every day, and 
William is to call upon us soon. God bless you, my 
dear E. ! If ever you are ill, may you be as. tenderly 
nursed as I have been. May the same blessed alle- 
viations of anxious, sympathizing friends be yours ; 
and may you possess, as I dare say you will, the 
greatest blessing of all in the consciousness of not 
being unworthy of their love, /could not feel this. 
Your very affec te Aunt, 

J. A. 

The letter here transcribed shows more clearly 
and simply than the words of any biographer could 
do the solicitous, grateful, loving nature of the one 
who wrote it. She had room for an anxious thought 
for those who might be enduring discomfort for her 
sake, even while she was undergoing the fatigues of 
a long carriage journey, — fatigues which, however 
she might make light of them, could not but be 
considerable to one as ill as she must then have 
been. But then and always she experienced the 
deepest gratitude for all that was done for her. It 
was no forced humility of spirit which led her at 
this time to esteem herself unworthy of all the 
kindness she received, but the sincere utterance 
of a soul that so far from thinking of itself more 



LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 2 n 

highly than it ought to think, had invariably pre- 
ferred another's comfort to its own. 

One afternoon of June, 1889, in the company 
of the Dean 1 who at present rules so ably over 
the grey precincts of Winchester Cathedral, I en- 
tered the old house in College Street which Jane 
Austen had found so comfortable in the last weeks 
of her life. The Dean having explained our wishes 
to the owner, the latter readily admitted us up a 
rather dark stair possessing a landing and a turn, 
and into the " neat little drawing-room " men- 
tioned in the letter, from the bow-window of which 
flowers and vines overhang the entrance to the 
pastry-cook shop below. It is a small room, 
lighted only by the bow-window, and connecting 
by a passage-way with other apartments in the 
rear. Over the way there was a bit of garden to 
be seen, and beyond and above the leafage of the 
Close the south transept gable and the tower of 
the cathedral. 

It was a pleasant corner of the beautiful old 
city, — not an absolutely still one, for the voices 
of the young Wykehamists now and again echoed 
along the street, but a peaceful spot nevertheless, 
with just enough of life stirring within it to please 
one whose hold on existence, but not her kindly 
interest in many of its aspects, was fast loosening. 
As we sat in the* little room with curious time-worn 
paper on the walls, from which some old views of 
Paris were suspended, the seventy-two years since 
the Austens were there seemed to fade into the 

1 The Very Reverend G. W. Kitchin, now (1896) Dean 
of Durham. 



212 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

past, and show us the patient, gentle invalid on 
the sofa in the corner, and close beside her Cas- 
sandra Austen, — that " dearest sister," that "ten- 
der, watchful, indefatigable nurse." 

It was transitory enough, like most illusions ; 
but as we walked thoughtfully back through Col- 
lege and St. Swithin streets to where the sharply 
pointed arches of the Deanery entrance revealed 
their graceful outlines across the greensward of the 
Close, we talked, as was natural, of little else than 
the gifted woman in whose very presence we had 
seemed to be that summer day. 

The improvement in her condition noted by 
Jane in her letter, which was probably owing as 
much as anything to the change of air and scene 
incident upon the removal from Chawton to Win- 
chester, lasted but a very short time ; for on June 
14, a little over two weeks later, her niece Fanny 
sadly records in her diary the latest news from 
Winchester to this effect, " A sad account of my 
poor dear aunt Jane." Four days after the diary 
contains this entry, " Another hopeless account 
from Winchester ; " and again on June 27 the 
words, " Much the same account of dear aunt 
Jane." 

By this time the circle of friends to whom Jane 
Austen was so dear had of course ceased to enter- 
tain hope of her recovery, but they may not have 
thought the end so near as it proved to be. Some 
one whom she loved was always with her in these 
last days. Cassandra, the devoted sister, seldom 



LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 2 i$ 

left her side, and her ministrations were shared by 
her sister-in-law, Mrs. James Austen. Henry and 
James Austen came to Winchester every few days 
to see their sister ; while the two friends from the 
Close daily passed along College Street to the 
Austen lodgings at Mrs. David's. Everything that 
the thoughtful love of those about her could sug- 
gest to add to her comfort was ungrudgingly sup- 
plied ; and that she was fully sensible of the tender 
solicitude of her friends appears in almost the last 
lines she ever wrote : — 

"My dearest sister, my tender, watchful, indefati- 
gable nurse, has not been made ill by her exertions. 
As to what I owe her, and the anxious affection of all 
my beloved family on this occasion, I can only cry 
over it, and pray God to bless them more and more." 

The natural sweetness of her disposition never 
forsook her, even in the weakness of illness. Some- 
times when she was feeling momentarily better her 
former liveliness returned ; and some amusing, play- 
ful expression of hers would bring smiles to the 
anxious faces of the friends about her. 

Ere June was ended she recognized her con- 
dition fully, but accepted the knowledge calmly, 
notwithstanding that life had been very sweet to 
her, shielded as she had always been from much 
contact with its ruder experiences, while the events 
of the last few years had been of such a character 
as to incline her to wish to live to enjoy for a 
longer time the fame that had dawned across 
them. But, as her nephew observes, — 



214 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

" Her life had been passed in the performance of 
home duties, and the cultivation of domestic affec- 
tions, without any self-seeking or craving after ap- 
plause. She had always sought, as it were by instinct, 
to promote the happiness of all who came within her 
influence ; and doubtless she had her reward in the 
peace of mind which was granted her in her last 
days." 

At length there came a day when she fancied 
the end was close at hand ; and turning from one 
to another of the friends beside her, she said some 
gentle word of parting to each, thanking especially 
the sister-in-law who had borne with Cassandra the 
more arduous cares of nursing and attendance, 
adding in the sweet tones which never failed her, 
"You have always been a kind sister to me, 
Mary." 

But after this there seemed to be a pause in the 
progress of the disease ; and for two or three weeks 
she lingered in a state which implied the existence 
of but little pain, and that permitted her to talk with 
her attendants and enjoy their presence. Then 
the complaint returned or took on another phase ; 
and on the evening of the 17 th of July, after a 
half- hour of suffering, she sank into that uncon- 
sciousness which passed just as another day was 
breaking into that broader existence " whose portal 
we call death." 

To the aged mother in the cottage at Chawton 
there came, a few hours later, the news which for 
weeks she had been expecting yet dreading to 
hear. What such a loss as hers must have been 



LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 215 

we can understand from what we know of the one 
for whom she mourned. The death of her hus- 
band had been the one great anguish of her life 
till now at nearly eighty she had the pain of losing 
the most gifted of all her seven children. 

To Jane's beloved niece at Godmersham the 
latter' s father wrote from Winchester at once, well 
knowing how sharp a sorrow his words would carry 
to his daughter, who was so like the sister he had 
lost, and who had loved her so well. It was on 
Friday morning that Jane Austen died ; and on 
Sunday the sister, sitting in the little room beside 
the silent form of the one who had been the al- 
most idolized companion of a whole life, wrote 
to her niece Fanny the touching letter that fol- 
lows, — a letter full of the details which the other 
would wish to know, but the penning of which 
must have cost the writer many tears : — 

Winchester, Sunday. 

My dearest Fanny, — Doubly dear to me now 
for her dear sake whom we have lost. She did love 
you most sincerely ; and never shall I forget the proofs 
of love you gave her during her illness, in writing those 
kind, amusing letters, at a time when I know your 
feelings would have dictated so different a style. 
Take the only reward I can give you, in the assurance 
that your benevolent purpose was answered ; you did 
contribute to her enjoyment. 

Even your last letter afforded her pleasure. I 
merely cut the seal and gave it to her; she opened it 
and read it herself. Afterwards she gave it to me to 
read, and then talked to me a little, and not uncheer- 



216 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

fully, of its contents; but there was then a languor 
about her which prevented her taking the same in- 
terest in anything she had been used to do. 

Since Tuesday evening, when her complaint re- 
turned, there was a visible change : she slept more and 
much more comfortably ; indeed, during the last eight- 
and-forty hours she was more asleep than awake. Her 
looks altered and fell away, but I perceived no mate- 
rial diminution of strength ; and though I was then 
hopeless of a recovery, I had no suspicion how rapidly 
my loss was approaching. 

I have lost a treasure, — such a sister, such a friend 
as never can have been surpassed. She was the sun 
of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of 
every sorrow ; I had not a thought concealed from 
her ; and it is as if I had lost a part of myself. I loved 
her only too well, — not better than she deserved, but 
I am conscious that my affection for her made me 
sometimes unjust to and negligent of others ; and I 
can acknowledge, more than as a general principle, 
the justice of the Hand which struck the blow. 

You know me too well to be at all afraid that I 
should suffer materially from my feelings. I am per- 
fectly conscious of the extent of my irreparable loss ; 
but I am not at all overpowered, and very little indis- 
posed, nothing but what a short time, with rest and 
change of air, will remove. I thank God that I was 
enabled to attend her to the last, and amongst my 
many causes of self-reproach I have not to add any 
wilful neglect of her comfort. 

She felt herself to be dying about half an hour 
before she became tranquil and apparently uncon- 
scious. During that half-hour was her struggle, poor 
soul! She said she could not tell us what she suf- 
fered, though she complained of little fixed pain. 
When I asked her if there was anything she wanted, 



LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 



217 



her answer was she wanted nothing but death ; and 
some of her words were, " God grant me patience ! 
Pray for me, oh, pray for me ! " Her voice was af- 
fected, but as long as she spoke she was intelligible. 

I hope I do not break your heart, my dearest 
Fanny, by these particulars ; I mean to afford you 
gratification while I am relieving my own feelings. I 
could not write so to anybody else ; indeed, you are 
the only person I have written to at all, excepting your 
grandmamma, — it was to her, not your Uncle Charles, 
I wrote on Friday. 

Immediately after dinner on Thursday I went into 
the town to do an errand which your dear aunt was 
anxious about. I returned about a quarter before six, 
and found her recovering from faintness and oppres- 
sion. She got so well as to give me a minute account 
of her seizure ; and when the clock struck six she was 
talking quietly to me. 

I cannot say how soon afterwards she was seized 
again with the same faintness, which was followed by 
the sufferings she could not describe ; but Mr. Lyford 
had been sent for, had applied something to give her 
ease, and she was in a state of quiet insensibility by 
seven o'clock at the latest. From that time till half- 
past four, when she ceased to breathe, she scarcely 
moved a limb ; so that we have every reason to think, 
with gratitude to the Almighty, that her sufferings 
were over. A slight motion of the head with every 
breath remained till almost the last. I sat close to 
her, with a pillow in my lap to assist in supporting her 
head, which was almost off the bed, for six hours ; 
fatigue made me then resign my place to Mrs. J. A. 
for two hours and a half, when I took it again, and in 
about an hour more she breathed her last. I was able 
to close her eyes myself ; and it was a great gratifica- 
tion to me to render her those last services. There 



218 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

was nothing convulsed which gave the idea of pain in 
her look ; on the contrary, but for the continual mo- 
tion of the head she gave one the idea of a beautiful 
statue. And even now, in her coffin, there is such a 
sweet, serene air over her countenance as is quite 
pleasant to contemplate. 

This day, my dearest Fanny, you have had the 
melancholy intelligence, and I know you will suffer 
severely ; but I likewise know that you will apply to 
the fountain-head for consolation, and that our mer- 
ciful God is never deaf to such prayers as you will 
offer. 

The last sad ceremony is to take place on Thurs- 
day morning ; her dear remains are to be deposited in 
the cathedral. It is a satisfaction to me to think that 
they are to lie in a building she admired so much ; her 
precious soul, I presume to hope, reposes in a far 
superior mansion. May mine one day be reunited 
to it. 

Your dear papa, your Uncle Henry, and Frank 
and Edwd. Austen, 1 instead of his father, will attend. 
I hope they will none of them suffer lastingly from 
their pious exertions. The ceremony must be over 
before ten o'clock, as the cathedral service begins at 
that hour, so that we shall be at home early in the 
day, for there will be nothing to keep us here after- 
wards. ... I am, my dearest Fanny, 

Most affectionately Yours, 

Cass. Eliz. Austen. 

On Thursday, July 24, not far from nine in the 
morning, a small company of the male members of 
the Austen kindred moved slowly forth from the 

1 Known to literature as the Reverend Austen-Leigh. 
He was the son of Reverend James Austen, who was not 
well enough to be present. 



LAST ILLNESS AND DEATH. 2 ig 

house on College Street, taking with them all that 
remained on earth of the bright, unselfish woman, 
the tender sister, the loving aunt, of whose genius 
they had all been so justly proud. Very quietly 
the necessary movements were made, so that the 
sister sitting in her desolation in the room above 
should hear no jarring sound j and " had I not 
been upon the listen," so she tells us, " I should 
not have known when they left the house." 

From the bow-window of her room Cassandra 
watched the mournful company till in a few mo- 
ments it had passed from sight around the corner 
of Kingsgate Street ; but in thought she still fol- 
lowed it through the low, dark arches of the Kings- 
gate, till it entered, at the foot of St. Swithin 
Street, a few steps farther, the shady precincts of 
the Close, and wound along past the corners of the 
choristers' school and then of the Deanery oppo- 
site, past the opening of the long " dark cloister," 
till it paused before the side door in the south aisle 
of the cathedral. It was but a brief journey, this sad 
one she was following step by step while she sat so 
quietly in the lonely apartment out of which had 
gone all that she most cared for. Sitting there 
with her grief, she could nevertheless see her 
brothers pass into the mighty cathedral, cross the 
long-drawn nave, the most majestic in all England, 
and pause once more, this time before the spot in 
the north aisle where they were to leave the dust 
of their sister to mingle with the dust of kings and 
queens, of prelates and of warriors ; but not one of 



220 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

all that host of buried greatness had lived a fairer 
life or left a sweeter memory than had her sister 
and theirs. 

The service ended, the grave filled up, and the 
temporary slab which covered it fitted into its 
place in the floor of the aisle, 1 the brothers went 
their way as the bells of the cathedral began ring- 
ing for morning prayer. A few moments after, the 
white-robed singing boys and vicars-choral moved 
choirwards from the south transept, followed by 
the vergers and the surpliced canons ; and the 
organ sent its waves of sound surging along the 
vaulted roof. These, too, after a little went their 
way; the great cathedral was left to the vergers 
and the Saint Cross bedesmen to care for, the sun- 
light streamed in gloriously through the long range 
of the clerestory windows, 

" And merry was the world though she was dead." 

1 The precise locality of the gravestone is in the pave- 
ment of the fifth bay of the north aisle, counting from the 
west. It is a slab of black marble with the following 
inscription : — 

" In memory of Jane Austen, youngest daughter of the late 
Revd. George Austen, formerly Rector of Steventon in this County. 
She departed this life on July 18, 1817, aged 41, after a long illness, 
supported with the patience and hope of a Christian. The benevo- 
lence of her heart, the sweetness of her temper, and the extra- 
ordinary endowments of her mind, obtained the regard of all who 
knew her, and the warmest love of her immediate connexions. 
Their grief is in proportion to their affection ; they know their loss 
to be irreparable, but in their deepest affliction they are consoled by 
a firm, though humble, hope that her charity, devotion, faith and 
purity have rendered her soul acceptable in the sight of her 
Redeemer." 




Winchester Cathedral, North Aisle, looking West. 



THE SLAB ABOVE THE GRAVE t>F MISS AUSTEN IS AT THE END OF THE MATTING 
SHOWN IN THE ILLUSTRATION. 



XL 

JANE'S BROTHERS AND SISTER. 

SAID the youngest mourner in the cathedral on 
that 24th of July, 181 7, — the nephew who in 
his old age wrote so tenderly of the beloved aunt 
of his boyhood, and whose pious care placed in 
the wall of the north aisle the memorial brass 
which bears her name, — 

" Her brothers went back sorrowing to their several 
homes. They were very fond and very proud of her. 
They were attached to her by her talents, her virtues, 
and her engaging manners ; and each loved after- 
wards to fancy a resemblance in some niece or daugh- 
ter of his own to the dear sister Jane whose perfect 
equal they yet never expected to see." 

Her death was the first break in the circle of 
brothers and sisters ; and nearly two years and a 
half later a second was caused by the death of 
the Reverend James Austen at Steventon, on Dec. 
13, 1 819. In the chancel of the church of St. 
Nicholas at Steventon, of which he had been 
rector since the resignation of his father in 1801, 
is a mural tablet 1 to his memory, and close at 

1 " To the memory of Rev. James Austen who succeeded 
his father as Rector of this Parish, and died Dec. 13th 1819, 
aged 53 years." 



222 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE, 

hand, in the small but sunny churchyard, is hi? 
tomb. He was twice married, — the first time tc 
Anne Mathew, whose only child, Anna, married, as 
we have already ascertained, the younger son of 
Jane's early friend, Mrs. Lefroy of Ashe. His two 
children by his second wife, Mary Lloyd, — the 
" Mary " to whom Jane expressed so much grati- 
tude in her last days, — were James Edward, the 
same who afterward added the name of Leigh to 
his own, .and Caroline, who died unmarried in 1880. 

Mrs. George Austen, who at the time of her 
daughter's death was seventy-eight years old, lived 
on quietly in the cottage at Chawton for several 
years after the loss of her eldest son. These were 
years of almost constant pain, which she bore, how- 
ever, with patience and cheerfulness. To her 
nephew Edward she once remarked during one of 
his visits to her : " Ah, my dear, you find me just 
where you left me, on the sofa. I sometimes think 
God Almighty must have forgotten me ; but I dare 
say He will come for me in His own good time." 
The ending she had longed for came in January, 
1827, at the cottage in Chawton; and the small 
churchyard about Chawton Church in her great- 
grandson's park contains her tomb. 

There was no one left at the cottage now to 
need a daughter's nor a sister's care ; and Cassan- 
dra, whose home it still continued to be, spent 
much of her time with the families of her brothers. 
Her nephew, Edward Knight, after his marriage 
made Chawton House his home ; and she naturally 



JANE'S BROTHERS AND SISTER. 223 

passed a large part of her time in his family, being 
especially fond of his second wife ; for like all his 
uncles and many of his cousins, he was twice mar- 
ried. She made, however, frequent trips to God- 
mersham and Steventon ; and her death occurred 
while she was visiting her brother, Admiral Francis 
Austen, K. C. B., whose home was at Portsdown 
Lodge near Portsmouth. She was buried beside 
her mother in Chawton Churchyard ; and when I 
visited her grave in July of 1889, a thrifty young 
yew which grew close beside it almost hid from 
sight the following inscription upon the stone at its 
head : — 

" In Memory of Cassandra Elizabeth Austen who 
died the 22d of March 1845. Aged 72." 

Not many years ago a fire destroyed the nave of 
Chawton Church, since rebuilt, but happily spared 
the ivy-covered chancel, the interior walls of 
which bear tablets in remembrance of Mrs. Austen 
and her older daughter. On the memorial to the 
latter are the words : — 

" In Memory of Cassandra Elizabeth Austen, 
daughter of the Reverend George Austen, Rector of 
Steventon in this county. Died 22d of March, 1845. 
Aged 72. 

" Being justified by faith we have peace with God 
through our Lord Jesus Christ. — Rom. v. 1." 

A fair knowledge of what Cassandra Austen was 
may be gleaned to some extent from the foregoing 



224 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

pages. That hers was a character well worthy of 
the sisterly adoration of a woman like Jane Austen 
may not be doubted. With Jane she shared in 
the affectionate esteem of all her brothers, and in 
the reverent affection of their many nephews and 
nieces. After the deaths of her beloved sister and 
aged mother her life continued to be an active, 
busy one ; for though her own household cares may 
not have been very great, yet in the homes of her 
brothers and their children her counsel and ser- 
vices were constantly in demand. The great sor- 
row of her lifetime was probably not far removed 
from the surface of her thoughts at any after 
period. Soon after Jane's death she wrote to her 
niece Fanny : — 

" I get out of doors a good deal, and am able to em- 
ploy myself. Of course those employments suit me 
best which leave me most at leisure to think of her I 
have lost, and I do think of her in every variety of 
circumstance. ... I know the time must come when 
my mind will be less engrossed by her idea, but I do 
not like to think of it." 

Hers was too healthy a mind to dwell upon the 
past to the exclusion of the present ; and when the 
first sharpness of loss had gone, and her sorrow had 
passed from anguished pain into softened grief, she 
took up the plain details of common life with the 
gentle cheerfulness of her race. It had not been 
her first great trial, this parting with her sister. 
Long ago, in the old days at Steventon, fully 
twenty years before, she had met and become 



JANE'S BROTHERS AND SISTER. 225 

deeply attached to a young clergyman ; and their 
engagement was favorably regarded by their rel- 
atives. Her lover was the friend of a young 
nobleman, with whom he went to India as chap- 
lain to the other's regiment. While in India he 
sickened and died of yellow fever, to the great 
grief of the young peer, who declared that had he 
known of the engagement, he should not have en- 
couraged his friend to encounter the risks of a 
tropical climate. 

To Cassandra the shock of his death was a most 
severe one ; and the entire household shared her 
grief and gave her their tender.est pity. Jane's 
affectionate sympathy was of the utmost value to 
the older sister at this epoch, and strengthened 
the tie between them, which never had been a 
weak one. The love of her sister did all that 
human affection could do to supply the place of 
what was lost from Cassandra's life, but — 

" Life is love, and love is life, be sure ! 
And once loved, always must that love be strong." 

Her grandnephew, Lord Brabourne, who was a 
lad of fifteen at the time of his aunt Cassandra's 
death, well remembers her visits to Godmersham 
in his boyish days. She was an old lady by that 
time, with bright apple-red cheeks like her brother 
Edward's, giving a fine healthy tone of color to 
her face. She was a high favorite with her grand- 
nephews and grandnieces, of whom she had many ; 
and after the lapse of five and forty years they 
'5 



226 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

remember their great- aunt Cassandra as invari- 
ably winning and agreeable. 

Henry Thomas Austen, whom I cannot but ac- 
cuse as the remote though unwitting cause of his 
sister Jane's death, went to Berlin the year follow- 
ing that event in the capacity of chaplain. The 
death of his brother James was the occasion of his 
return to England at the close of 1 8 1 9 ; and he 
succeeded him as rector of Steventon. In 1820 
he married for the second time, and in 1822 re- 
signed the living which had been filled by an 
Austen so long, in favor of his nephew, William 
Knight, who retained it till his own death in 1873. 
This appears to have been the only church prefer- 
ment held by Henry Austen, who was no more 
persistent in this profession than in any other, and 
who lacked throughout his long life of almost 
eighty years that mysterious gift which goes by the 
name of " faculty." It was a disappointing, unsat- 
isfactory life to those to whom he was dear, but 
probably not to himself, for he seemingly extracted 
a fair amount of comfort and happiness from it. 
He died at Tunbridge Wells in 1850, leaving no 
children. 

The youngest of the Austen brothers, Admiral 
Charles Austen, was much less often in the com- 
pany of his relatives than the others, being absent 
from England on many long cruises in the royal ser- 
vice, — one of these, indeed, lasting for seven years. 
He commanded the " Bellerophon " at the bom- 
bardment of St. Jean d'Acre in 1840, and ten years 



JANE'S BROTHERS AND SISTER. 227 

later was commander-in-chief of the British naval 
forces in the East Indian and Chinese waters. He 
never returned to England after this, and died of 
cholera on board his flagship in the Irawaddy in 
the year 1852, when he had nearly reached the 
age of seventy-four. 

In November of the same year the second 
brother, Edward, who since the age of forty- four 
had borne the surname of Knight, died at God- 
mersham a few weeks after his eighty-fourth birth- 
day had been passed. At Chawton House is a 
portrait painted of him when he was not far from 
twenty-five, which shows him to have been an un- 
usually fine-looking young man, bearing, according 
to family tradition, not a little resemblance to his 
sister Jane. That he retained his good looks till 
very late in life, a small miniature of him bears 
abundant testimony. 

But one of all the Steventon household was now 
left alive, Admiral Sir Francis Austen, who was 
destined to a longer life than any other member of 
it, his death not occurring till 1865, at his home in 
Portsmouth, twenty years after the death of his 
sister Cassandra at the same place. His first wife, 
who is very often referred to in Jane's letters from 
Southampton, died in 1823 ; and some time after- 
ward he married Martha Lloyd, the sister of Mrs. 
James Austen. She had been an inmate of Mrs. 
George Austen's family at Southampton, and again 
at Chawton ; and Jane was much attached to her. 

With the death of Sir Francis Austen the gener- 



228 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

ation of which his sister Jane was the most gifted 
representative became extinct. Of the Austens of 
later days little need here be said beyond the fact 
that they have always been deeply sensible of the 
talents and abilities of their famous aunt, and have 
borne honored names in their various stations in 
life. Some of them, like Lord Brabourne and the 
late Reverend Edward Cracroft Lefroy, are not 
unknown to the literature of the present day ; and 
none of them have done anything to bring the 
slightest stain upon — 

" The grand old name of gentleman." 



XII. 

CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN SHOWN IN 
HER WRITINGS. 

THE nephew to whom the world owes its first 
* extended and authoritative account of his 
illustrious aunt gives in one of his chapters a most 
pleasing personal description of her. His state- 
ments, which are attested by family tradition and 
bits of contemporary evidence, may be taken as 
accurate, for at the time of her death in 1 8 1 7 he 
had reached the age of eighteen years, and was 
therefore quite old enough to form impressions 
which should be sufficiently permanent to with- 
stand the effacing effects of the half-century which 
was to elapse before his memoir would be written. 
From him, then, we learn that Jane Austen was in 
person " very attractive ; her figure was rather tall 
and slender, her step light and firm, and her whole 
appearance expressive of health and animation. In 
complexion she was a clear brunette with a rich 
color ; she had full, round cheeks, with mouth and 
nose small and well-formed, bright hazel eyes, and 
brown hair forming natural curls close round her 
face." In short, she was in appearance just such a 
specimen of the high-bred Hampshire gentle- 
woman as on£ may see any day in Winchester 



230 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

High Street or at afternoon tea in any Winchester 
drawing-room of the present. 

Of the two daughters at the Steventon rectory 
Cassandra Austen was probably the better-looking, 
for her features had the regularity which those of 
her sister lacked ; but Jane's face expressed the 
more animation. The elder sister drew very well ; 
and it is to her that we owe the best-known like- 
ness of Jane Austen, — a pencil drawing made by 
Cassandra not far from the time when the family 
left Steventon. This represents her as wearing a 
cap, — a custom which the sisters adopted early in 
life and long before their friends thought such an 
addition to their costume rendered imperative by 
their years. Jane was fond of music, as we already 
have learned, but preferred probably the less com- 
plex kind ; and at Chawton she practised the piano 
with a good deal of regularity. At Chawton House, 
besides the dance music already mentioned as be- 
longing to her, I saw other music-books of hers 
with her autograph on the faded fly-leaves. One 
was a volume of six sonatas by Jean Chretien Bach ; 
another consisted of manuscript music copied by 
both the sisters ; and a third was a book of Scotch 
songs. She did not confine herself to instrumen- 
tal music, for we have the authority of her nephew 
for saying that she sang these songs to her own 
accompaniment, and that her voice was very sweet. 

Who would not like to have sat some eighty 
years ago in the great drawing-room, with its high, 
dark wainscot reaching nearly to the ceiling, its 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 231 

large, hospitable, generous-looking fireplace, its 
broad range of mullioned Tudor windows looking 
upon a perfect lawn, and sitting there have seen 
'Jane Austen at her brother's piano, and listened to 
her singing? Who would not have enjoyed an ex- 
perience like this ? Though eighty years have fled, 
the beautiful room remains much as when she used 
to visit it, her music is still upon the piano, and 
very pleasant it is to remember that here she sat 
and sang, and moreover that her voice was sweet. 
* Besides a knowledge of music she read French 
easily, and was not wholly ignorant of Italian ; but 
the list of what in those days would have been 
called her " accomplishments " does not go much 
beyond this point. History she knew a good deal 
of, and when a girl, is said to have had very pro- 
nounced views upon the political events of the 
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, being a par- 
ticularly valiant defender of Mary of Scotland and 
of Charles I. However this may have been, in her 
later life politics occupied a very small portion of 
her thoughts ; and she certainly experienced no 
difficulty in keeping the head of the unfortunate 
Charles I. out of her writings. 

As may be inferred from sundry passages in her 
letters, she was fond of reading, although she has 
comparatively little to say in them concerning her 
favorite authors. Addison and Steele she had read 
frequently, and Richardson she almost knew by 
heart. Johnson she admired, but- to a much less 
extent ; and certainly nothing can be more unlike 



232 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

his vicious, inflated, ponderous style than her own. 
Crabbe we have heretofore ascertained to have 
been a favorite writer with her ; and Cowper, about 
whom she says less, stood high in her regards. In 
spite of one or two allusions which seem to bear a 
contrary meaning, she enjoyed Scott's poetry, with 
which she was quite familiar ; and his prose, also, 
so far as she had the opportunity of knowing it, for 
but three of the Waverley novels were published in 
her lifetime. Although she was quite removed 
from the atmosphere of contemporary literary dis- 
cussion, she at once detected the authorship of 
" Waverley," speaking thus confidently concerning 
it in a letter to her niece, Mrs. Anna Lefroy : — 

- " Walter Scott has no business to write novels, es- 
pecially good ones. It is not fair. He has fame and 
profit enough as a poet, and should not be taking the 
bread out of the mouths of other people. 

" I do not like him, and do not mean to like * Wa- 
verley ' if I can help it, but fear I must. 

" I am quite determined, however, not to be pleased 
with Mrs. West's 'Alicia De Lacy,' should I ever 
meet with it, which I hope I shall not. I think I can 
be stout against anything written by Mrs. West. I 
have made up my mind to like no novels really but 
Miss Edgeworth's, yours, and my own." 

The ringers that held the pen so skilfully had 
no less sure a touch in other employments. At 
the once popular game of spillikens, to which there 
are many references in her correspondence, she 
was considered an adept ; and when playing cup 
and ball, she would sometimes catch the ball a 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 233 

hundred times in succession. Not unfrequently, in 
the latter part of her life, when pain in the eyes 
made it difficult for her to read or write long con- 
tinuously, she would amuse herself at this graceful 
pastime till they were temporarily rested. But 
more important, at least in the estimation of her 
contemporaries, was her skill in all branches of 
needlework, her achievements in satin stitch in 
particular being considered beyond all praise. 

As has been before remarked, she was always in 
high favor with children, who were invariably at- 
tracted to her by her sweetness of manner. As 
one of her nieces has expressed it, " She seemed 
to love you, and you loved her in return." She 
mingled freely in the amusements of children, and 
was the one among their elders to whom they 
always looked for help in their indoor sports. Her 
ready invention enabled her to tell the most 
delightfully long and circumstantial stories at the 
shortest notice ; and we may easily believe that this 
accomplishment was one which her twoscore or 
more nephews and nieces did not suffer to rust for 
want of use, but persistently begged for its unim- 
peded exercise on every possible occasion. It 
seems to me by no means improbable that her 
grandnephevv, Lord Brabourne, whose talent as a 
weaver of fairy tales is so generally recognized by 
children of to-day, may have discovered his own 
peculiar gifts in the same direction from a knowl- 
edge of his aunt's abilities in that quarter. 

In regard to her skill in the telling of fairy tales, 



234 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

we must of course depend upon the evidence of 
her nephews and nieces, — a testimony presumably 
somewhat colored by family reverence for, and 
pride in, her genius, yet accurate enough in the 
main. Upon the same authority, too, we must 
rest as to personal descriptions. When, however, 
we wish to know what Jane Austen really thought 
and felt, — what, in fact, she really was, — we must 
first turn, as we have all along been doing, to her 
correspondence with her kinsfolk, and afterward 
to the pages of her books. While she did not con- 
sciously draw her own portrait or disclose her indi- 
vidual opinions on any of these, still there are 
features of the likeness to be traced and hints of 
the opinions to be gleaned from the chapters of the 
novels, if we will take the trouble to look for them. 
It has been pointed out by several writers that 
her description of the delight her heroine Cathe- 
rine Morland at ten years old experienced in 
" rolling down the greensward at the back of the 
house " was probably an autobiographical reminis- 
cence, and so too, very likely, was the relation of 
Catherine's preference for cricket over " not merely 
dolls, but the more heroic enjoyments of infancy, 
— nursing a dormouse, feeding a canary-bird, or 
watering a rose-bush." Catherine's childhood, in 
fact, must have resembled her own in more than 
one of its aspects. Like hers, it contained nothing 
in any wise remarkable, but was a sensible, healthy 
period of existence, such as a girl brought up as 
Jane had been, and with her amiable tolerance of 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 235 

disposition, would be likely to have. I do not 
mean to say that Catherine Morland is in any sense 
a counterpart of Jane Austen ; I mean simply that 
there are occasional resemblances between the 
novelist and her creation, which have a flavor that 
to my mind is distinctly autobiographic. When 
she records of Catherine that " though she could 
not write sonnets, she brought herself to read 
them ; and though there seemed no chance of 
throwing a whole party into raptures by a prelude 
on the pianoforte of her own composition, she 
could listen to other people's performance with 
very little fatigue," — there is a personal reminis- 
cence of her girlhood underlying the irony aimed at 
certain youthful heroines of contemporary fiction. 
She was doubtless thinking of herself when she 
declares that Catherine " had reached the age of 
seventeen, without having seen one amiable youth 
who could call forth her sensibility, without hav- 
ing inspired one real passion, and without having 
excited even any admiration but what was very 
moderate and very transient." 

She had not the tinge of romance which led her 
pleasing young heroine into such awkward situa- 
tions ; but she certainly possessed the healthy tem- 
perament which made admiration not unwelcome 
to Catherine, while at the same time by no means 
indispensable to her happiness. In that delightful 
chapter of " Northanger Abbey " which recounts 
the first appearance of Catherine at a ball in the As- 
sembly Rooms at Bath, I am very sure we may see 



236 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

Jane Austen, the pretty, animated, unsophisticated 
girl of fifteen, going through the same experience, 
with her aunt, Mrs. Perrot, perhaps, as chaperone. 

But however many autobiographic touches she 
may have introduced into the description of Cath- 
erine Morland, the likeness to herself at this period 
appears more strongly in Elizabeth Bennet. The 
native good sense which was usually at Catherine's 
command in emergencies was a distinguishing 
characteristic of Jane Austen ; but the vivacity and 
animation which Elizabeth possessed in a much 
greater degree than her sister heroine were quite 
as essential a part of their author's being, as every 
letter of hers bears indubitable evidence. There 
seems small reason to doubt that certain features in 
the portrait of Jane Bennet were adapted from her 
sister Cassandra, though the original of the portrait 
could lay claim to much greater strength of charac- 
ter than Jane Bennet had. How far Jane Austen 
was indebted to living persons for the characters 
of her dra??iatis persona must of course remain 
purely a matter for individual conjecture. Her 
family are of the opinion that she never introduced 
actual personalities into her books, and this is un- 
doubtedly true respecting her figures as separate 
wholes ; but as I read her letters, I seem to see 
here and there details which I cannot help think- 
ing form the outline of a number of the subordinate 
creations in her pages. 

As to the principal figures, I am by no means so 
sure, with the exception of the important ones 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 237 

already mentioned. William Price, in " Mansfield 
Park," while he may not be considered as a por- 
trait of either of her sailor brothers, is, I am in- 
clined to think, a compound of the traits she 
admired in each of them. She was proud of their 
achievements, of their simple, unaffected manliness, 
and of the strength of the fraternal tie which neither 
time nor distance was powerful enough to weaken ; 
and so I am very confident it was the thought of 
Francis or Charles that inspired such a passage 
as this : — 

" William was often called on by his uncle to be the 
talker. His recitals were amusing in themselves to 
Sir Thomas ; but the chief object in seeking them was 
to understand the reciter, to know the young man by 
his histories ; and he listened to his clear, simple, 
spirited details with full satisfaction, seeing in them 
the proof of good principles, professional knowledge, 
energy, courage, and cheerfulness, — everything that 
could deserve or promise well. Young as he was. 
William had already seen a great deal. He had 
been in the Mediterranean, in the West Indies, in the 
Mediterranean again ; had been often taken on shore 
by the favour of his captain, and in the course of seven 
years had known every variety of danger which sea 
and war together could offer." 

Intimately acquainted with representatives of 
the naval profession, in the persons of her broth- 
ers Francis and Charles, her knowledge of the 
clergy of the Establishment was even closer. Her 
father and two of her brothers were Anglican 
clergymen, so were her uncle, Dr. Cooper, and 



238 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

one or more of her cousins ; while in the circle of 
her immediate acquaintance were rectors and 
curates enough to have ministered to the spiritual 
wants of a small diocese. But of the clergy as a 
class, she gives us no such attractive presentment 
as she does of the navy in William Price. For the 
most part it is only incidentally, and as it were 
unavoidably, that we learn that her clerical figures 
are clergymen at all; and it certainly is not for 
diligence in their sacred calling that we are inter- 
ested in Henry Tilney, Edmund Bertram, Mr. 
Elton, or Edward Ferrars. Much has been said 
of Jane Austen's pictures of the clergy ; and con- 
clusions have been drawn therefrom which reflect 
by no means favorably upon the Anglican shep- 
herds of her day, — for of Nonconformist ministers 
she knew nothing, dissent being only a name to 
her. But her father, the Reverend George Austen, 
was a man by no means neglectful of any portion 
of his work, and her brother James was a worthy 
successor to him in the quiet corner of Hampshire 
where the elder clergyman had labored for two- 
score years ; and there were others whom she 
knew in the same profession whose lives were an 
equal ornament to it. Why, then, have we no such 
con amore portrayal of a clergyman from her hand 
as we have of a sailor in the person of William 
Price? Is it because Jane Austen had little es- 
teem for clergymen as such? I think not. 

It is true that the standard of clerical efficiency 
was lower a century ago than at present. People 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 239 

were abundantly satisfied if their vicar or rector 
performed his sacred and his social duties with 
an equal amount of careful decorum. The age 
did not call for that vigor of spiritual life which is 
now generally esteemed essential in those who are 
to lead the way in things external to this world ; 
and the average clergyman, being but an average 
clergyman, performed, like the average man in 
other professions, no more than was expected of 
him. It was only here and there that a curate or 
a canon had wakened to perceptions of greater 
usefulness and deeper spiritual experience than 
had been active in the church since the days of 
George Herbert and Nicholas Ferrar. Jane Aus- 
ten, it may be presumed, was not greatly in ad- 
vance of the thoughts of her time in these matters. 
She was attracted to the Established Church by 
feeling and association ; but of the possibilities 
which should open before that church after Evan- 
gelicism, Tractarianism, and Rationalism had suc- 
cessively exerted their awakening influences upon 
it, she naturally could not conceive, since the last 
two were non-existent, and the first she knew only 
through some of its narrower and bigoted phases. 
Evangelicism, as she saw it, repelled her. Its set 
phrases were distasteful, its rigidity and narrow- 
ness were repulsive, to so tolerant and broad a 
mind as hers; while she was not sufficiently ac- 
quainted with it to recognize the real worth of the 
religious experience for which it stood. 

It does not follow from her atcitude toward 



240 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

this development of the church's life that she was 
in every way satisfied with the average clergyman 
of her day, and that she had no worthy ideals of 
what men in that profession should resemble. But 
she disliked cant so thoroughly, and was so con- 
vinced that religion should be a constructive feature 
in life, — should appear rather in its general ten- 
dency than in especial manifestations, — that I 
believe she shrank from delineating a clergyman 
who should be more distinctly clerical than the 
ordinary man in that calling with whom her readers 
were likely to be acquainted. She was not sure 
enough of her ability to draw a member of this 
reverend profession who should be entirely free 
from a tinge of the cant she so heartily disliked. 
If she had this fear, I imagine it was a groundless 
one ; but granting its existence, I think the fact 
that she drew for us no loftier types of the pro- 
fession to which her father and brothers belonged 
may be thus accounted for. What she herself 
thought of the duties of a parish priest — an opinion 
fortified by a knowledge of what her father and her 
brother James had accomplished — maybe learned 
from the words she puts into the mouth of Sir 
Thomas Bertram in " Mansfield Park " : — 

" A parish has wants and claims which can be known 
only by a clergyman constantly resident, and which no 
proxy can be capable of satisfying to the same extent. 
Edmund might, in the common phrase, do the duty oi 
Thornton — that is, he might read prayers and preach — 
without giving up Mansfield Park ; he might ride over 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 241 

every Sunday, to a house nominally inhabited, and go 
through divine service ; he might be the clergyman of 
Thornton Lacey every seventh day for three or four 
hours, if that would content him. But it will not. He 
knows that human nature needs more lessons than a 
weekly sermon can convey ; and that if he does not 
live among his parishioners, and prove himself by 
constant attention their well-wisher and friend, he 
does very little either for their good or his own." 

Here, then, is one of her ideals for a clergyman : 
a life which should be spent in devotion to the 
best interests of his people ; an existence in which 
their welfare was entitled to a consideration prior 
to his own, — an ideal in which there does not seem 
to be so very much lacking even now. She knew 
perfectly what the popular conception of a clergy- 
man then was : — 

" Indolence and love of ease, — a want of all laudable 
ambition, of taste for good company, or of inclination 
to take the trouble of being agreeable, which make 
men clergymen. A clergyman has nothing to do but 
to be slovenly and selfish, — read the newspaper, watch 
the weather, and quarrel with his wife. His curate 
does all the work, and the business of his own life is 
to dine." 

And in the spirited bit of dialogue in " Mansfield 
Park," from which this extract is taken, she com- 
bats very successfully such a low view of the clerical 
character. A careful examination of her work will 
lead us, unless I am much mistaken, to acquit her 
of injustice toward a profession which in reality she 
esteemed most highly, though it may not dispel 
16 



2 42 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

the regret that she did not attempt to create a 
loftier example of clerical excellence than she has 
done. 

To a greater extent than was perhaps common 
in her day, Jane Austen was a lover of natural 
scenery. It is freely shown in her letters ; it does 
not so readily appear in her novels, at least not to 
a hurried reader of them, and for a very specific 
as well as artistic reason. Never did an author 
obtrude so little of his or her personality in print 
as Miss Austen. She never stood at one side and 
gossiped with her audience about the people on 
her stage, revealing her own virtues while she 
moralized over their foibles. She never tied a 
knot in the thread of her story while she directed 
attention to this enchanting bit of scenery or that 
depressing period of tiresome weather, or detailed 
at length her views upon subjects only remotely 
connected with the matter in hand. Her sense of 
proportion forbade all this ; and consequently we 
do not find her indulging, for instance, in descrip- 
tions of the scenery she enjoyed, except as integral 
portions of her narrative. 

Scattered throughout "Sense and Sensibility" 
may be noticed several allusions to the scenery of 
Somersetshire, and of the coombes and downs of 
Devon in the neighborhood of Exeter; but they 
are not introduced without a definite purpose, for 
in every case the narrative is dependent upon some 
collocation of scenery and incident, yet the former 
is never independent of the latter. In such a pas- 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 243 

sage as this in " Mansfield Park," the few lines of 
description, instead of retarding the narrative, are 
in reality helpful, and rarely does she permit her- 
self a longer clause of this kind : — 

" The day was uncommonly lovely. It was really 
March ; but it was April in its mild air, brisk soft 
wind, and bright sun occasionally clouded for a minute ; 
and everything looked so beautiful under the influence 
of such a sky, the effects of the shadows pursuing each 
other, on the ships at Spithead and the island beyond, 
with the ever-varying hues of the sea now at high 
water, dancing in its glee and dashing against the 
ramparts with so fine a sound, produced altogether 
such a combination of charms for Fanny, as made her 
gradually almost careless of the circumstances under 
which she felt them." 

Again, in " Emma " occurs this description of a 
rainy day, admirable for its conciseness and its 
perfect adaptation to her immediate purposes : 

" The evening of this day was very long and melan- 
choly, at Hartfield. The weather added what it could 
of gloom. A cold stormy rain set in, and nothing of 
July appeared but in the trees and shrubs, which the 
wind was despoiling, and the length of the day, which 
only made such cruel sights the longer visible." 

If in " Northanger Abbey " she devotes a line 
or two to Beechen Cliff or some other natural 
feature of Bath, it is because that especial locality 
has its purpose to serve in her sequence of events. 
The only exception she makes to this rule of hers, 
and it is a partial exception only, is in one of the 



244 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

chapters of " Persuasion," wherein the subjoined 
description of the neighborhood of Lyme-Regis 
occurs : — 

" As there is nothing to admire in the buildings 
themselves, the remarkable situation of the town, the 
principal street almost hurrying into the water, the 
walk to the Cobb, skirting round the pleasant little 
bay, which in the season is animated with bathing- 
machines and company, the Cobb itself, its old won- 
ders and new improvements, with the very beautiful 
line of cliffs stretching out to the east of the town, are 
what the stranger's eye will seek ; and a very strange 
stranger it must be who does not see charms in the 
immediate environs of Lyme to make him wish to 
know it better. The scenes in its neighborhood, — 
Charmouth, with its high grounds and extensive 
sweeps of country, and still more its sweet, retired 
bay, backed by dark cliffs, where fragments of low 
rocks among the sands make it the happiest spot for 
watching the flow of the tide, for sitting in unwearied 
contemplation ; the woody varieties of the cheerful 
village of Up-Lyme ; and above all, Pinney, with its 
green chasms between romantic rocks, where the scat- 
tered forest trees and orchards of luxuriant growth 
declare that many a generation must have passed 
away since the first partial falling of the cliff prepared 
the ground for such a state, where a scene so wonder- 
ful and so lovely is exhibited as may more than equal 
any of the resembling scenes of the far-famed Isle of 
Wight, — these places must be visited, and visited 
again, to make the worth of Lyme understood." 

It is an exception one is glad to have made, for 
the glimpse it affords of the author's own habits 
and preferences. We like to know that she took 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 245 

a tranquil delight in " sitting in unwearied contem- 
plation, watching the flow of the tide," and follow- 
ing with her eastward gaze the long line of yellow 
cliffs till they merge into the horizon to appear a 
few leagues farther on as a low dark cloud, mark- 
ing where the Isle of Portland thrusts itself sharply 
into the sea. 

Charmouth to-day, in its lovely situation, still 
repays the notice of the traveller ; and the green 
chasms of Pinney, now made more noticeable by 
succeeding landslips, are quite as wonderful as 
Jane Austen found them. It would seem as if 
when she did attempt a bit of natural description 
she was resolved to be unerringly exact in her use 
of terms. " The principal street almost hurrying 
into the water" can hardly fail to impress simi- 
larly every visitor to Lyme. It is as if the street 
has gained so great an impetus in its long descent 
from the lofty down on the Exeter road that it 
can barely stop itself at the water's edge, and 
is able to do so only by making a violent turn to 
the left and rushing up the opposite ascent toward 
the grey old church of St. Michael. 

Not less careful is her choice of adjectives than 
of participles. Leaving Lyme by the Axminster 
road, a walk over the long hill (and very much 
preoccupied must one be who does not turn re- 
peatedly in the course of such a walk to gaze at 
the fair prospect behind him, of silver sea and 
curving lines of cliff) brings the traveller into a 
pleasant, irregular coombe, or valley, on the farther 



246 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

side of the down. Here is a pretty village, mod- 
erately shaded and not hemmed in too closely by 
the encircling downs, with all its houses, from 
thatch-roofed cottage to more pretentious dwel- 
ling, showing the presence of thrift and comfort. 
Many of them are yellow-washed, and look bright 
even on a cloudy day. An attractive -looking 
church with battlemented tower stands on a 
wooded knoll above the high-road, but not far 
removed from it. There is nothing anywhere to 
repel the eye; nothing of dirt or gloom to be 
detected anywhere. I saw it thus eighty-five years 
after Jane Austen, looking upon it, pronounced it 
" cheerful •" and I could think of no better charac- 
terization for the little village of Up- Lyme half 
hidden among the green downs of Devon. 

The same gentle pleasure which Jane experi- 
enced in quiet contemplation of the sea she took 
in watching the slow passing of summer into win- 
ter through the mild gradations of an English 
autumn. The latter was a season peculiarly dear 
to her in her later years, and she more than once 
briefly touches upon her feeling for it. Like her 
own Anne Elliot, her pleasure in that season arose 
" from the view of the last smiles of the year upon 
the tawny leaves and withered hedges, and from 
repeating to herself some few of the thousand 
poetical descriptions extant of autumn, — that sea- 
son of peculiar and inexhaustible influence on the 
mind of taste and tenderness ; that season which 
has drawn from every poet, worthy of being read, 



CHARACTER OF J AXE AUSTEN. 247 

some attempt at description or some lines of 
feeling." 

What fraternal affection meant to her we have 
seen over and over again in the pages which have 
preceded this. It was with her a link which noth- 
ing could sever, a bond which was dearer to her 
than anything else in life. What an exquisite 
ideal of such affection she places before us in the 
love of Fanny Price for her brother William ! 
There is no room for doubting that in describing 
it she was recalling some happy moments with her 
brother Charles or Francis returning from one or 
other of their voyages. 

" Fanny had never known so much felicity in her 
life as in this unchecked, equal, fearless intercourse 
with the brother and friend, who was opening all his 
heart to her, telling her all his hopes and fears, plans 
and solicitudes, respecting that long thought of, dearly 
earned, and justly valued blessing of promotion; . . . 
with whom (perhaps the dearest indulgence of the 
whole) all the good and evil of their childish years 
could be gone over again, and every former united 
pain and pleasure retraced with the fondest recol- 
lection. An advantage this, a strengthener of love, in 
which even the conjugal tie is beneath the fraternal. 
Children of the same family, the same blood, with the 
same first associations and habits, have some means 
of enjoyment in their power which no subsequent con- 
nexions can supply ; and it must be by a long and 
unnatural estrangement, by a divorce which no sub- 
sequent connexion can justify, if such precious re- 
mains of the earliest attachments are ever entirely 
outlived." 



248 JANE AUSTEN'S LIEE. 

Few stronger or more impressive words than 
these have been written upon this theme ; but the 
passage which contains them is not foisted upon 
the narrative, but appears as an integral part of 
it, as every reader of " Mansfield Park " must 
remember. 

In "Northanger Abbey" we recognize the pres- 
ence of a spirit of good-humored irony not held 
in check to so great a degree as is desirable, 
but which appears nowhere else in her writings in 
such inartistic proportions. The same spirit shines 
out in her letters, which are full of epigrammatic 
touches of the kind ; but in her novels, with this 
exception, it appears incidentally and at long 
intervals, where it serves to light up a page or 
sharpen the point of a description. In " North- 
anger Abbey" she intended to satirize a certain 
prevalent school of fiction which amused her by 
some of its absurdities ; but her own corrected 
perceptions of the relative importance of the fac- 
tors of a story kept her from repeating this mis- 
take, for delightful as is the recital of Catherine 
Morland's adventures, the motive of the tale is 
certainly an inartistic one. Henceforward this 
element in her work displayed itself only in such 
characterizations as that of Robert Ferrars in 
" Sense and Sensibility," whose face expressed 
"strong, natural, sterling insignificance," and of 
his mother also, with whom " a lucky contraction 
of the brow had rescued her countenance from the 
disgrace of insipidity, by giving it the strong char- 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 249 

acters of pride and ill-nature," and whose words, 
not being many, were " proportioned to the num- 
ber of her ideas." Indeed, in " Northanger Ab- 
bey " itself it is sometimes softened into humorous 
incidental reflections like this : — 

"Dress is at all times a frivolous distinction, and 
excessive solicitude about it often destroys its own 
aim. Catherine knew all this very well ; her great- 
aunt had read her a lecture on the subject only the 
Christmas before ; and yet she lay awake ten minutes 
on Wednesday night debating between her spotted 
and her tamboured muslin ; and nothing but the short- 
ness of the time prevented her buying a new one for 
the evening. This would have been an error in judg- 
ment, great though not uncommon, from which one of 
the other sex rather than her own, a brother rather 
than a great-aunt, might have warned her ; for man 
only can be aware of the insensibility of man towards 
a new gown. It would be mortifying to the feelings of 
many ladies could they be made to understand how 
little the heart of man is affected by what is costly or 
new in their attire ; how little it is biassed by the tex- 
ture of their muslin, and how unsusceptible of peculiar 
tenderness towards the spotted, the sprigged, the 
mull, or the jackonet. Woman is fine for her own 
satisfaction alone. No man will admire her the more, 
no woman will like her the better for it. Neatness 
and fashion are enough for the former; and a some- 
thing of shabbiness or impropriety will be most en- 
dearing to the latter. But not one of these grave 
reflections troubled the tranquillity of Catherine." 



There is not the slightest touch of cynicism in a 
passage of this kind any more than in the one 



250 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

that follows, which shows the quiet amusement 
it gave her to observe the attitude of the men 
of her day toward anything like the existence of 
reasoning powers in any representative of her 
own sex. 

"Where people wish to attach, they should always 
be ignorant. To come with a well-informed mind is 
to come with an inability of administering to the van- 
ity of others, which a sensible person would always 
wish to avoid. A woman especially, if she have the 
misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as 
well as she can. 

" The advantages of natural folly in a beautiful girl 
have been already set forth by the capital pen of a 
sister author ; and to her treatment of the subject I 
will only add, in justice to men, that though to the 
larger and more trifling part of the sex, imbecility in 
females is a great enhancement of their personal 
charms, there is a portion of them too reasonable and 
too well informed themselves to desire anything more 
in woman than ignorance." 

It was never her intention to be didactic, and 
when she does occasionally become so, it is because 
the spirit of the age in which she lived was too 
strong for her ; and she wrote in unconscious obe- 
dience to its demands. Not writing with this de- 
sign before her, however, there arose no occasion 
for her to apply the heavier strokes of satire to 
the sins and foibles of her fellow-beings ; and con- 
sequently the satire remains simply good- humor 
with an edge to it, as, for example, when she says 
in " Emma " that — 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 251 

" Human nature is so well disposed towards those 
who are in interesting situations that a young person 
who either marries or dies is sure of being kindly 
spoken of; " 

or again in the same book that — 

" It may be possible to do without dancing entirely. 
Instances have been known of young people passing 
many, many months successively without being at any 
ball of any description, and no material injury accrue 
either to body or mind ; but when a beginning is made, 
— when the felicities of rapid motion have once been, 
though slightly, felt, — it must be a very heavy set 
that does not ask for more." 

Readers of " Persuasion " will remember that 
when Lady Russell was so much annoyed by the 
animation and cheerful stir in the Musgroves' family 
rooms at holiday time, she declared to Anne El- 
liot her intention to remember to choose in future 
some other season of the year for calling at Upper- 
cross. This circumstance, it will also be recalled, 
gives occasion for a quiet passing observation of 
this nature : — 

" Every body has their taste in noises as well as in 
other matters; and sounds are quite innoxious or 
most distressing by their sort rather than their quan- 
tity. When Lady Russell not long afterwards was 
entering Bath on a wet afternoon, and driving through 
the long course of streets from the Old Bridge to 
Camden Place, amidst the dash of other carriages, the 
heavy rumble of carts and drays, the bawling of news- 
men, muffin-men, and milkmen, and the ceaseless 
clink of pattens, she made no complaint. No, these 



252 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

were noises which belonged to the winter pleasures ; 
her spirits rose under their influence ; and, like Mrs. 
Musgrove, she was feeling, though not saying, that 
after being long in the country, nothing could be so 
good for her as a little quiet cheerfulness." 

It is in " Persuasion," too, that we find a witty 
reflection like the following, which is of a kind she 
seldom permitted herself to indulge in, but w r hich 
no one of her time could put so tersely as she : 

" Personal size and mental sorrow have certainly no 
necessary proportions. A large, bulky figure has as 
good a right to be in deep affliction as the most grace- 
ful set of limbs in the world. But, fair or not fair, 
there are unbecoming conjunctions, which reason will 
patronize in vain, which taste cannot tolerate, which 
ridicule will seize." 

As must already have been seen, she took a 
healthy delight in novel-reading; and she read 
with all her critical perceptions alive to merits as 
well as faults. She early recognized the immense 
importance that the novel was already coming to 
hold in modern life, and had small patience with 
that form of literary affectation which labored to 
belittle it. It is against this practice that she ex- 
claims with healthy indignation in one of the 
earlier chapters of " Northanger Abbey " : — 

" I will not adopt that ungenerous and impolitic 
custom, so common with novel-writers, of degrading, 
by their contemptuous censure, the very performances 
to the number of which they are themselves adding : 
joining with their greatest enemies in bestowing the 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 253 

harshest epithets on such works, and scarcely ever 
permitting them to be read by their own heroine, who, 
if she accidentally take up a novel, is sure to turn 
over its insipid pages with disgust. Alas ! if the 
heroine of one novel be not patronized by the heroine 
of another, from whom can she expect protection and 
regard ? I cannot approve of it. Let us leave it to 
the reviewers to abuse such effusions of fancy at their 
leisure, and over every new novel to talk in thread- 
bare strains of the trash with which the press now 
groans. Let us not desert one another ; we are an 
injured body. Although our productions have afforded 
more extensive and unaffected pleasure than those of 
any other literary corporation in the world, no species 
of composition has been so much decried. From 
pride, ignorance, or fashion, our foes are almost as 
many as our readers ; and while the abilities of the 
nine-hundredth abridger of the ' History of England,' 
or of the man who collects and publishes in a volume 
some dozen lines of Milton, Pope, and Prior, with 
a paper from the ' Spectator,' and a chapter from 
Sterne, are eulogized by a thousand pens, there 
seems almost a general wish of decrying the capacity 
and undervaluing the labour of the novelist, and of 
slighting the performances which have only genius, 
wit, and taste to recommend them. ' I am no novel- 
reader. I seldom look into novels. Do not imagine 
that / often read novels. It is really very well for a 
novel.' Such is the common cant. ' And what are 
you reading. Miss ? ' ' Oh, it is only a novel ! ' re- 
plies the young lady ; while she lays down her book 
with affected indifference or momentary shame. It is 
only ' Cecilia,' or ' Camilla,' or ' Belinda ; ' or, in 
short, only some work in which the greatest powers of 
the mind are displayed, in which the most thorough 
knowledge of human nature, the happiest delineation 



254 JANE AUSTEN'- S LIFE. 

of its varieties, the liveliest effusions of wit and 
humor, are conveyed to the world in the best-chosen 
language." 

It is the only actual digression to be found in 
her books if, considering the manner in which it 
occurs, it may fairly be so styled ; but it is surely a 
most pardonable one, which her readers should be 
willing to forgive equally on account of its spirited 
defence of her profession and the strength of the 
position it occupies. 

Consideration for the feelings of others was a 
noticeable trait in her character ; and her novels 
afford many incidental as well as unconscious reve- 
lations of it. But of all these I like best that 
which appears in " Emma," where Mr. Knightley 
administers a deserved rebuke to the heroine, 
whose thoughtlessness has allowed her to ridicule 
publicly the harmless absurdities of Miss Bates. 
Unquestionably Jane Austen derived amusement 
from a contemplation of the vanities and small 
frailties of the men and women of her Hampshire 
and Kentish world ; but equally without question 
do I believe that she never found delight in mak- 
ing light of them in public, however she may have 
enjoyed discussing them in lively, unrestrained in- 
tercourse with Cassandra. 

" Persuasion " represents the ripest development 
of Jane Austen's powers, the latest phase of her 
thoughts and feelings. It is a novel which, while 
not wanting in the several excellences of those 
which preceded it, has a mellower tone and a 



CHARACTER OF JANE AUSTEN. 255 

more finished grace of style than any of the others. 
It was written at a time when bodily strength had 
given place to weakness ; and although her mind 
was more active than ever, her physical condition 
insensibly influenced her thought, giving this latest 
of her books that deeper note of feeling, that finer 
touch of sympathy and tenderness, which make 
" Persuasion " the greatest of all her works. 

She has not infused into the character of Anne 
Elliot, its heroine, all of her own strength of pur- 
pose or vivacity of manner ; but when Anne Elliot 
is giving utterance to her deepest convictions it 
is Jane Austen herself who is speaking, — the 
woman who is passing into the serenity of middle 
life, into the maturity and insight of chastened 
feeling. 

She may not have seen so far into the deeps of 
motive as some of her successors; she may not 
have been able to trace the influence of circum- 
stance upon character with as unerring skill ; her 
horizon may seem a narrow one to our less ob- 
structed gaze, and the ultimate purposes and ideals 
of her drai7iatis persona curiously circumscribed 
when contrasted with a later view of human re- 
sponsibilities. But within her range — a range too 
that is much wider than her superficial readers 
suspect — she has no equal, and her inferiors ap- 
proach her only in the same degree that the lesser 
lights of " the spacious times of great Elizabeth " 
approached the great sun of their day and of all 
days since. 



256 JANE AUSTEN'S LIFE. 

What Jane Austen was as a novelist has too 
many times been told to need retelling here. 
What she was as a woman I have in these now 
completed chapters endeavored to show. There 
remains no need for further words of mine. What- 
ever measure of success may belong to the endeavor 
is no part of the biographer's duty to decide ; this, 
however, I can most sincerely say, that its perform- 
ance has been to me a labor of devotion, rever- 
ence, and love. And now that the end of it all is 
reached, I know of no better colophon than the 
tender, earnest words in which Jane Austen, 
almost in her last days, expressed her concep- 
tions of the love of man and woman : — 

" God forbid that I should undervalue the warm and 
faithful feelings of any of my fellow-creatures. I 
should deserve utter contempt if I dared to suppose 
that true attachment and constancy were known only 
by woman. No, I believe you capable of everything 
great and good in your married lives. I believe you 
equal to every important exertion, and to every domes- 
tic forbearance, so long as — if I may be allowed the 
expression — so long as you have an object. I mean, 
while the woman you love lives, and lives for you. All 
the privilege I claim for my own sex (it is not a very 
enviable one ; you need not covet it) is that of loving 
longest when existence or when hope is gone." 




Reverend James Edward Austen- Leigh, 1798- 1874. 

NEPHEW AND FIRST BIOGRAPHER OF JANE AUSTEN. 



APPENDIX. 



Extract from Manuscript Book of Family Records 
kept by the late Miss Fanny Lefroy, great-?iiece of 
Jane Austen. 

I think my mother 1 must have spent most of 
her time at Steventon during the widowhood of 
her father, for she could remember . . . hearing 
"Pride and Prejudice" (begun 1796) read aloud 
by the youthful writer to her sister. She was a very 
intelligent, quick-witted child ; and she caught up 
the names of the characters, and talked about them 
so much downstairs, that her aunts feared she would 
provoke enquiry, for the story was still a secret from 
the elders. Let me in my mother's words describe 
the house and room in which Jane Austen wrote 
her two first works. 

" The Rectory of Steventon had been of the most misera- 
ble description ; but in the possession of my grandfather it 
became a tolerably roomy and convenient habitation, as he 
added, and improved, and walled in a good kitchen garden, 
and planted out the east wind, enlarging the house until it 

1 Miss Lefroy's mother was Mrs. Anna Austen Lefroy, the oldest 
child of Reverend James Austen. The latter had lost his first wife, 
Anna's mother ; and at this time his little daughter was an inmate of 
Steventon rectory before her father had succeeded to the living. 

17 



25 8 



APPENDIX. 



came to be considered a very comfortable family residence. 
On the sunny side was a shrubbery and flower-garden, with 
a terrace walk of turf which communicated by a small gate 
with what was termed the wood walk, — a path winding 
through clumps of underwood, and overhung by tall elm 
trees skirting the upper side of the home meadows. The 
lower bow-window, which looked so cheerfully into the 
sunny garden, and up the middle grass-walk bordered with 
strawberries, to the sun-dial at the end, was that of my 
grandfather's study, his own exclusive property, safe from 
the bustle of all household cares. The dining, or common 
sitting room looked to the front, and was lighted by two 
casement windows. On the same side the front door 
opened into a smaller parlour; and visitors, who were few 
and rare, were not a bit the less welcome to my grand- 
mother because they found her sitting there busily engaged 
with her needle, making and mending. In later times, but 
not probably until my two aunts had completed their 
short course of schooling at M dme Laturelle's at Reading 
Abbey, and were living at home, a sitting-room was made 
upstairs, — ' the dressing-room,' as they were pleased to call 
it, perhaps because it opened into a smaller chamber in 
which my two aunts slept. I remember the common-look- 
ing carpet, with its chocolate ground, and the painted press 
with shelves above for books, and Jane's piano, and an 
oval looking-glass that hung between the windows ; but 
the charm of the room, with its scanty furniture and cheaply 
papered walls, must have been, for those old enough to 
understand it, the flow of native home-bred wit with all 
the fun and nonsense of a large and clever family. Here, 
as I have said before, were written the two first of my aunt 
Jane's completed works, ' Pride and Prejudice ' and ' Sense 
and Sensibility.' " x 

1 The manuscript book from which the above is taken is now in 
the possession of C. Austen-Leigh, Cambridge, a cousin of the late Miss 
Lefroy, who has kindly furnished the extract for use in this volume. 



BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM OF JANE 
AUSTEN. 

1833. Northanger Abbey. By Jane Austen. Philadelphia, 
1833. i6vo. 

Contains Biographical Notice of the Author. 
1843. Memoirs of the Literary Ladies of England. By Mrs. 
A. K. Elwood. 2 vols. London, 1843. 8v0 - 
Jane Austen, vol. ii., Pp. 174-186. 

1855. Woman's Record ; or, Sketches of all Distinguished 
Women, etc. By Mrs. Sarah Josepha Hale. New 
York, 1855. 8vo. 

Jane Austen, pp. 184-194. 

1821-1861. Miscellaneous Lectures and Reviews. By 
Richard Whately, Archbishop of Dublin. Lon- 
don, 1861. 8vo. 
Review of " Northanger Abbey" and "Persuasion," pp. 282-313, 

reprinted from the Quarterly Review, 1821. 
1863. English Women of Letters, etc. By Julia Kavanagh. 
2 vols. London, 1863. 8vo - 

Miss Austen, vol. ii., pp. 180-236. 

1870. A Memoir of Jane Austen. By her nephew, J. E. 

Austen-Leigh. London, 1870. 8vo. 

1871. Second edition, to which is added " Lady Susan " and 

fragments of two other unfinished tales by Miss 
Austen. London, 1871. 8vo. Fifth edition, 1883. 
1871. The Novels and Novelists of the Eighteenth Century, 
etc. By William Forsyth. London, 1871. 8vo. 
Jane Austen, pp. 328-337. 



260 BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM. 

1875. Encyclopaedia Britannica. Ninth edition. Edin- 
burgh, 1875. 4 to « 

Jane A usten, vol. Hi. 

1880. Jane Austen and her Works. By Henrietta Keddie, 
" Sarah Tytler." With a portrait on steel. Lon- 
don, 1880. 8vo. Later edition. London, 1884. 8vo. 

1882. The Literary History of England, etc. By Mrs. Mar- 

garet O. W. Oliphant. 3 vols. London, 1882. 8vo. 
Jane Austen, vol. Hi., pp. 221-237. 

1883. A Book of Sibyls. By Mrs. Anne Isabella Thackeray- 

• Ritchie. London, 1883. 8vo. 

Jane Austen, pp. 197-229. 

1883. Jane Austen's Novels : a Bowdoin Prize Dissertation. 
By William George Pellew. Boston, 1883. 8vo. 

50 P- 

1883. Historic Houses in Bath. By R. E. Peach. London, 

1883. 

Jane Austen, First Series, pp. 149-150. 

1884. Letters of Jane Austen. Edited with an Introduction 

and Critical Remarks by Edward, Lord Brabourne. 
2 vols. London, 1884. 

1885. Dictionary of National Biography. London, 1885. 

8vo. 

Jane Austen. By Leslie Stephen, vol. ii, pp. 259, 260. 

1886. Letters to Dead Authors. By Andrew Lang. Lon- 

don, 1886. 8vo. 

To Jane Austen, pp. 75-85. 

1887. Word Portraits. Edited by Mabel E. Wotten. Lon- 

don, 1887. 

Jane A usten, pp. 7-10. 

1888. Pen-Portraits of Literary Women. By Helen Gray 

Cone and Jeanette L. Gilder. 2 vols. New York, 
1888. 8vo. 

Jane Austen, vol. i.,Pp- 195-220. 
1888. Chapters from Jane Austen. Edited by Oscar Fay 
Adams. Boston, 1888. 



BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM. 261 

1888. Women and Men. By Thomas Wentworth Higgin- 

son. New York, 1888. 

Men's Novels and Wometi's Novels, pp. 156-160. 

1889. Some Eminent Women of Our Times. By Mrs. 

Henry Fawcett. London, 1889. 
Jane Austen, pp. 136-144. 

1889. Jane Austen. By Mrs. S. F. Maiden. {Eminent 

Women Series.) London and Boston, 1889. 8vo. 

1890. Life of Jane Austen. By Goldwin Smith. {Great 

Writers Series.) Vol. 30. London, 1890. 

1 891. The Story of Jane Austen's Life. By Oscar Fay 

Adams. Chicago, 1891. 

1892. Women Writers. By Catherine J. Hamilton. First 

Series. London, 1892. 8vo. 

Jane Austen, pp. 191-206. 
1892. Twelve English Authoresses. By Mrs. Walford. 
London, 1892. 8vo. 

Jane Austen, pp. 65-81. 

1892. Letters of Jane Austen. Edited by Miss Woolsey. 
Boston, 1892. 

Preface by Miss Woolsey, iii.-x. 

1894. Pride and Prejudice. By Jane Austen. Illustrated 
by Hugh Thomson. London and New York, 1895. 
Preface by George Saintsbury, ix.-xxiii. 

1896. Sense and Sensibility. By Jane Austen. Illustrated 
by Hugh Thomson. 

Introduction by Austin Dobs on, vii.-xvi. 

1896. Pride and Prejudice. By Jane Austen. Illustrated 
by Charles E. Brock. 

Introduction by A ustin Dobson. 



26.2 BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM. 

Magazine Articles. 

Vol. Pages. 
1815. "Emma." (Quarterly Review.) By 

Sir Walter Scott 14 188-201 

1821. "Northanger Abbey" and "Persua- 
sion." (Quarterly.) By Archbishop 

Whately . . 24 352-376 

1830. Jane Austen. (Edinburgh Review.) . 51 448-450 

1852. " " (Colburn's New Monthly 

Mag.) 95 17-23 

Same Article. (Littell's Living Age.) 33 477-480 

1853. Jane Austen. (North Am. Rev.) By 

J. F. Kirk 77 201-203 

1855. Biographical Notice. (Littell.) . . 45 205-207 

1856. " " (Eclectic Mag.) . ^7 197-200 
1859. The Novels of Jane Austen: Black- 
wood 86 99-113 

Same Article. (Littell.) 62 424-436 

i860. British Novelists : Richardson. Miss 

Austen. Scott. (Frazer'sMag.) . 61 30-35 
1863. Jane Austen. (Atlantic Monthly.) By 

Mrs. A. M. Waterston 11 235-240 

Same Article. (Littell.) 76 418-422 

1863. Jane Austen's Novels. (Christian 

Exam.) By Miss I. M. Luyster. . 74 400-421 
1866. Jane Austen. (Englishwoman's Do- 
mestic Mag.) 3d Series .... 2 237-240 
1870. Jane Austen. (Harper's Mag.) By 

S. S. Conant 41 225-233 

1870. Jane Austen. (Fortnightly.) By T. 

E. Kebbel 13 187-193 

1870. Jane Austen. (Hours at Home.) By 

Anne Manning 11 516-522 

1870. Jane Austen. (Nation.) ByGoldwin 

Smith 10 124-126 



BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM. 263 

Vol. Pages. 
1S70. Jane Austen. (North British Rev.) . 52 129-152 
1870. " " (St. Paul's Mag.) . . 5 631-643 
1870. Miss Austen -and Miss Mitford. Black- 
wood . . 107 290-313 

Same Article. (Littell.) 105 38-55 

1870. Miss Austen and Miss Mitford. (Quar- 
terly Rev.) By G. F. Chorley . . 128 196-218 
Same Article. (Littell.) .... 104 558-569 
1870. Jane Austen and her Novels. (Dub- 
lin Rev.) . . 67 43°-457 

1870. Glimpse of a British Classic. (Cham- 

bers's Journal) 47 157-160 

187 1. Early Writings of Jane Austen- (Na- 

tion.) By E. Quincy 13 164-165 

187 1. Jane Austen. (CornhilL) By Mrs. 

Thackeray-Ritchie 24 158-174 

Same Article. (Littell.) no 643-653 

" " (Eclectic Mag.) . . > 37 197 

1872. Jane Austen. (Englishwoman's Do- 

mestic Mag.) 3d Series .... 14 187-189 
1877. Jane Austen. (Englishwoman's Do- 
mestic Mag.) 3d Series .... 24 267-271 
1879. Hunting for Snarkes at Lyme-Regis. 

(Temple Bar.) By F. C. L. . . . 57 391-397 

Same Article. (Littell.) 143 633-637 

1882. Jane Austen. (Argosy.) By Alice 

King 34 187-192 

1882. Jane Austen and Charlotte Bronte. 

(Modern Rev.) By A. Armitt . . 3 384-396 

Same Article. (Littell.) 153 368-373 

1882. Jane Austen. (Temple Bar.) ... 64 350-365 

Same Article. (Littell.) 153 43-52 

" " (Eclectic Mag.) ... 98 615-624 

1882. Is it Just ? (Temple Bar.) .... 67 270-284 

Miss Austen. (Littell.) 156 691-699 



264 BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM. 

Vol. Pages. 

1882. From Miss Austen to Mr. Trollope. 

(Spectator.) 552 1609-11 

Same Article. (Littell.) 156 186-189 

2. Jane Austen's Novels. (Sat. Rev.) . 54 827-828 
[882. Jane Austen's Novels. (Lit. World.) 

Boston 13 130-131 

[882. A Bundle of Letters. (Temple Bar.) 67 285-288 

1883. Jane Austen. (Dublin Rev.) . . . 93 103-129 
883. Jane Austen and George Eliot. (Na- 
tional Rev.) By T. E. Kebbel . . 2 259-273 

[884. Jane Austen and her Style. (Macmil- 

lan.) By M. A. W 51 84-91 

Same Article. (Littell.) . . . .. .164 58-64 

4. Letters of Jane Austen. (Spectator.) 57 s 1482-83 

L884. " " " " (Sat. Rev.) 58 637-638 
4. " " " " (Academy.) 

By T. W. Lyster . .' 26 333~334 

4. Letters of Jane Austen. (Athenaeum, 
Nov. '84.) ..." 585-586 

[885. Jane Austen at Home. (Fortnightly.) 

By T. E. Kebbel 43 262-270 

Same Article. (Littell.) . . . . .164 680-685 

5. More Views of Jane Austen. (Gentle- 
man's Mag.) By G. B. Smith . . 285 26-45 

9. Maiden's Life of Jane Austen. (Spec- 
tator.) ... 632 80-81 

9. Maiden's Life of Jane Austen. (Acad- 
emy.) By J. A. Noble 36 95~97 

9. Jane Austen. (Time.) By W. Robert- 
son. Feb. '89 193-201 

9. A Note of Provinciality in Jane Austen. 
(Harvard Monthly.) By R. E. N. 
Dodge 8 152-159 

o. Jane Austen. (Academy.) By J. A. 

Noble 37 330 



BIOGRAPHY AND CRITICISM. 



265 



Vol. Pages. 

1890. The Charm of Jane Austen. (Specta- 

tor) 64 1 403-404 

1891. A Note on Jane Austen. (Scribner's 

Monthly.) By W. B. S. Clymer . 9 377-387 

1891. ThreeFamous Old Maids. (Lippincott's 

Magazine.) By Agnes Repplier . . 47 390-394 

1892. A Girl's Opinion on Jane Austen. 

(Temple Bar.) By Edith Edlemann. 94 343-350 
1892. Jane Austen and her Heroines. (The 
Monthly Packet.) New Series. By 
W. Warde Fowler 3 18-30 

1892. Plagiarism of Jane Austen. (National 

Review.) By Walter Herries Pollock 19 82-84 

1893. Jane Austen and Miss Ferrier. (Atlan- 

tic Monthly.) By C. T. Copeland . 71 836-846 

1893. In the Footsteps of Jane Austen. (New 
England Magazine.) New Series. 
By Oscar Fay Adams 8 594-608 

1893. Our Incomparable Jane. (The Speak- 
er.) By Arthur Thomas Quiller- 
Couch 7 400-402 

1893. Adams's Life of Jane Austen. (Spec- 
tator.) By John Dennis .... 70 1 825-826 

1893. A Fortunate Old Maid. (The Dial.) 

By " Octave Thanet " 13 342-344 

1893. To Miss Jane Austen. A Poem. 

(Spectator.) By Alfred Cochrane 70 1 127 

1894. Jane Austen. (Tennessee University 

Magazine.) By Josephine Cole . . 8 51-54 
1894. An Illustrated Pride and Prejudice. 

(Spectator.) 73 2 644-645 



INDEX. 



Alton, Hants : position of, in rela- 
tion to Chawton, 148. 

Annual Register, the : contains no 
mention of Jane Austen's death, 
12. 

Anstey, Christopher: allusion 
to, as the prophet of Bath, 33 ; 
tablet to his memory in St. Swith- 
in's Church, Bath, 94. 

Ashe, Hants : nearness to Steven- 
ton, Sir Egerton Brydges a visi- 
tor at, intimacy between the 
rectory families at Ashe and 
Steventon, 24; boys at, 25. 

Ashford, Kent : location of, for- 
mer and present importance, 
Church of St. Mary, 102. 

Austen, Anna. See Lefroy, Mrs. 
Anna. 

Austen, Cassandra, sister . of 
Jane: date of birth given in 
Steventon parish register, 22 ; 
hers a stronger personality than 
Jane's, sent to school at Read- 
ing, 31 ; preserves all her sister's 
letters, 33 ; visits Mrs. Fowle at 
Kintbury, 42 ; her deep interest 
in her sister's work, 54 ; visits 
her brother Edward at Godmers- 
ham, 75; shows MS. of "The 
Watsons " to her nieces, 88 ; 
visits the Lloyds at Ibthorp, 89 ; 
judgment valued by her brother 
Francis, 114; remains at South- 
ampton in summer of 1808, 118 ; 
bequeathes letters to Lady 
Knatchbull, 120; goes to God- 
mersham in September, 1808, 



125 ; playfully reproved by Jane 
for misspelling " Ccelebs," 138; 
fondness for flowers, 147, 154 ; 
assists in nursing her brother 
Henry in autumn of 1815, 185 ; 
styled by Jane " an unwearied 
nurse," 196; visits Cheltenham, 
entire dependence of Jane upon, 
200 ; goes to Winchester with 
Jane, 207 ; engages lodgings at 
Mrs. David's, 208 ; last tribute of 
Jane to, 213 ; writes to her niece 
Fanny of Jane's last hours, 215- 
218 ; remains alone in her room 
during the funeral, 219; spends 
much time with her brothers, 
222 ; death at Portsmouth, grave 
at Chawton, tablet to, in Chawton 
church, 223 ; character of, writes 
to her niece Fanny of her great 
loss, 224 ; attachment for a young 
clergyman, his early death, the 
shock to her, Jane's sympathy, 
Lord Brabourne's recollection of 
her, resemblance to Edward, 
favorite with grandnephews and 
nieces, 225 ; probably handsomer 
than Jane, her pencil portrait 
of Jane, 230 ; some traits of, 
sketched in Jane Bennett, 236. 

Austen, Caroline, niece of Jane : 
Jane's advice to, in regard to 
writing, 35-36; describes her 
aunt Jane in her last illness, 
206-207. 

Austen, Mrs. Cassandra Eliza- 
beth, mother of Jane : marriage 
to George Austen, 19 ; journey 



268 



INDEX. 



from Deane to Steventon, 20 ; 
her imagination and humor in- 
herited by Jane, 27 ; her health 
a source of anxiety to her chil- 
dren, 107 ; thinks of leaving 
Southampton, of removing to 
Alton, of removing to Wye, 126 ; 
decides to go to Chawton, 127 ; 
reads " Pride and Prejudice " 
aloud when first published, 159- 
160; receives news of Jane's 
death, 214-215 ; continues to 
live at Chawton, years of pain, 
death, burial in Chawton church- 
yard, 222 ; tablet to, in Chawton 
Church, 223. 

Austen, Admiral Charles, 
brother of Jane : birth of, at 
Steventon, 23, 29 ; resembles 
Jane in sweetness of temper, 
enters navy, 29 ; nearest to 
Jane's heart of all her brothers, 
promotion of, 65 ; at Bermuda, 
his sister's pride in, 136; visits 
Godmersham in 1813, 169 ; lives 
in London in 1816, 196 ; his 
long cruises, bombards St. Jean 
d'Acre, commander-in-chief Brit- 
ish East Indian naval forces, 
death, 226-227. 

Austen, Colonel, of Kippington : 
said to have been godfather of 
Jane, orders portrait painted of 
Jane, 32. 

Austen, Francis, great-uncle of 
Jane : educates his nephew, 
George Austen, 18; purchases 
the living of Deane for his 
nephew, 19. 

Austen, Admiral Francis, 
brother of Jane ; birth at Ste- 
venton, 28; his firmness of char- 
acter, a rigid disciplinarian, 
kneeling in church, enters navy, 
29; appointed on "The Triton," 
52 ; raised to rank of comman- 
der, 65 ; resides with his mother 
and sisters at Southampton, 113 ; 
on board the " St. Albans," 119 ; 



visits Jane when ill at Chawton, 
200 ; attends funeral of Jane, 
218-220; home at Portsdown, 
223 ; the last of his family, death 
of his first wife, second marriage, 
death, 227. 

Austen, Edward, brother of 
Jane : birth at Deane, adoption 
of, by his third cousin, Thomas 
Knight, inherits his cousin's es- 
tates, 28; lives at Rowling for a 
short time, 49; receives gift of 
estate at Godmersham, 57 ; goes 
to Bath for health,, takes his 
mother and Jane there, 66 ; grief 
at loss of his wife, 127 ; sends his 
sons to their grandmother's at 
Southampton, 128 ; takes the 
name of Knight, 149 ; resides 
at Chawton House in spring of 
1812, 158; his "nerves," 169; 
visits his sick brother Henry in 
autumn of 1815, 185; visits Jane 
with Francis, 200 ; visits Jane 
at Winchester in her last illness, 
213 ; writes to his daughter of 
Jane's death, 215 ; attends Jane's 
funeral, 218-220; death of, por- 
trait of at Chawton House, re- 
semblance to Jane, 227. 

Austen, Reverend George, 
father of Jane : age when re- 
moving to Steventon, 18; educa- 
tion, appearance at age of 70, 
silhouette of at Chawton House, 
receives livings of Deane and 
Steventon, 19 ; prepares his sons 
for Oxford, 27; writes to pub- 
lisher about " Pride and Preju- 
dice," 54; disappointment at reply 
of publisher, 55 ; resigns living 
of Steventon, 78; uncertainty of 
himself and family as to location 
of a home in Bath, 80-84; death 
of, 94 ; record of his death in 
parish register of St. Swithin's, 
Bath, possible reference to in 
one of Jane's letters, 95; not 
neglectful of his duties, 238. 



INDEX. 



269 



Austen, Mrs. George. See Aus- 
ten, Mrs. Cassandra Elizabeth. 

Austen, Reverend Henry 
Thomas, brother of Jane : birth 
at Deane, inherits his father's 
eager nature, is unpractical, 28 ; 
resemblance to his nephew 
George Knight, 130 ; character 
of, 131-132 ; drives to London 
with Jane, 163 ; his favorable 
opinion of "Mansfield Park," 
164; illness of in 1813, visits 
Chawton, criticises " Mansfield 
Park" in MS., 173; removes to 
Hans Place, second marriage of, 
177; serious illness of, is nursed 
by Jane, 184-185 ; his bank- 
ing-house fails, 195 ; enters the 
Church, 201 ; gifts as a preacher, 
holds living of Steventon, 202 ; 
expected to preach at Chawton, 
203 ; takes Jane to Winchester 
for treatment, 207 ; visits Jane 
at Winchester, 213; attends fu- 
neral of Jane, 218-220; remote 
cause of Jane's death, goes to 
Berlin, succeeds James as rector 
of Steventon, remarries, resigns 
living to his nephew, death, left 
no children, 226. 

Austen, Reverend James, 
brother of Jane: silhouette of, 
at Chawton House, 19 ; writes 
prologues for private theatricals, 
26 ; birth at Deane, abilities 
evinced at Oxford, directs his 
sisters' studies, 27 ; visits his 
mother and sister at Southamp- 
ton, 113; visits Godmersham 
with Jane, 118-123 ; enjoyment 
of Edward's company, 119 ; 
reads "Marmion" to his sister 
Jane, 122 ; receives addition to 
his income as rector of Steven- 
ton, 134 ; visits Jane in her last 
illness, 213 ; too ill to attend 
Jane's funeral, 218; death, tab- 
let to, 221 ; twice married, his 
children, 222 ; succeeded by 



Henry as rector of Steventon, 
226 ; a worthy successor to his 
father, 238. 

Austen, Mrs. James. See Aus- 
ten, Mrs. Mary. 

Austen, Mrs. Mary, sister-in- 
law of Jane : care of Jane in 
latter's last illness, 213; Jane's 
last words to, 214; mention of, 
in Cassandra's letter, 2x7; mar- 
riage to James Austen, her two 
children by him, 222. 

Austen, James Edward. See 
A Jisten-Leigh, Reverend. 

Austen, Jane, her Life: last 
hours referred to, 10 ; no men- 
tion of in Annual Register for 
1817, sincere appreciation pleas- 
ing to, 12 ; not undervalued 
while living, 14 ; record of birth 
in Steventon parish register, 22 ; 
probable part in private theatri- 
cals when a child, later appear- 
ance in, as Mrs. Candor, 26 ; life- 
long dependence upon Cassandra, 
goes to school at Reading with 
Cassandra, 31; earliest impres- 
sions of Bath, 32-35; advice to 
her niece concerning composi- 
tion, 35-36 ; juvenile sketches 
described by Mr. Austen-Leigh, 
37; "The Mystery," 37-40; no 
desire to publish her early short 
stories, Mr. Austen-Leigh's re- 
mark concerning, 40-41 ; writes 
" Elinor and Marianne " when 
between sixteen and twenty, un- 
certain date of " Lady Susan," 
41 ; earliest dated letter of, 42- 
45; erroneous ideas concerning, 
45-46,62-63,99; her regard for 
Tom Lefroy, writes to Cassan- 
dra concerning, 47-49 ; visits 
Edward at Rowling, 49 ; com- 
pares herself to "Camilla," evi- 
dent liking for the character, 50; 
attends a dance at Goodnestone, 
51 ; departure from Rowling, 52; 
begins writing in earnest, writes 



270 



INDEX. 



" Pride and Prejudice," 53 ; re- 
vises " Elinor and Marianne," 
and changes title to " Sense and 
Sensibility," first attempt to pub- 
lish " Pride and Prejudice," 54; 
her discouragement but momen- 
tary, time spent on "Sense and 
Sensibility," begins and finishes 
" Northanger Abbey," 56; other 
occupations at this time, 56-65 , 
spends winter of 1798-99 with 
Edward at Godmersham, 57; be- 
gins to wear caps, 60 ; writes to 
Cassandra concerning caps, 61 ; 
dances twenty dances without 
fatigue, 62; thinks it not worth 
while to wait for enjoyment, fre- 
quent allusions in correspondence 
to her brothers, 64; second and 
third visits to Bath, 66 ; intimate 
knowledge of Bath, when gained, 
67 ; shopping expeditions in Bath, 
69 ; attends fetes in Sydney Gar- 
dens, 70; walks to Beacon Hill 
and Charlecombe, 71 ; playful 
allusion to "Pride and Preju- 
dice" under its first title " First 
Impressions," no desire to be 
known as an author, 73 ; alludes 
to "Sense and Sensibility," re- 
turns to Steventon from Bath, 
74 ; frequent attendance at balls, 
ball at Deane. describes the peo- 
ple at, no malice in her descrip- 
tions, 75-76; letter to Martha 
Lloyd, visit to, at Ibthorp, 77 ; 
probable feelings at leaving Ste- 
venton, 78-80 ; search for eligible 
house in Bath, 80-84; removes 
with her family to No. 4 Sydney 
Place, 84 ; fondness for walking, 
85 ; visit to Lyme-Regis, admira- 
tion for, lodgings at, occupations, 
88-93 ; visit to Teignmouth, 
knowledge of Devonshire, 92 ; 
acquaintance with Dawlish, re- 
turn to Bath from Lyme, 93 ; 
enjoyment of life in Bath, slight 
acquaintance with literary people, 



dislike of frivo'ous society, 98 ; 
goes to Bath Assembly Rooms, 
99 ; grief at loss of her friend 
Mrs. Lefroy, 100 ; visits at God- 
mersham, plays battledore and 
shuttlecock with her nephews, 
visits Goodnestone, 101 ; inti- 
mate knowledge of Canterbury 
and eastern Kent, 102-103 ; views 
to be seen from her Southampton 
home, 112 ; housekeeping anxie- 
ties, 113-114 ; calls on South- 
ampton people, 115 ; reads " Al- 
phonsine," " Female Quixote," 
and " Clarentine," and com- 
mends Mrs Grant's " Letters," 
116-117; a favorite with children, 
118 ; visits Godmersham with 
James, opinion of "Marmion," 
visits Brompton, 118-123; at- 
tends All Saints' Church at 
Southampton, 124 ; describes 
her evening amusements at 
Southampton, 125-126; keen 
sympathy for Edward in his 
family affliction, 127 ; devotes 
herself to entertainment of her 
nephews, goes rowing en the 
Itchen, 129-13 1 ; pleasure at 
hearing of James' good fortune, 
134; tolerance of human foibles, 
135 ; pride in her brother Charles, 
136; her careless spelling, 104, 
138 ; few references in correspon- 
dence to political events, 139- 
140; restricted sympathies, 141 ; 
relish for society when 34, 142 ; 
her happiness always unsought, 

143 ; hopes of being settled at 
Chawton in September of 1809, 

144 ; sees " The Hypocrite " 
acted in London, 149 ; attends 
musicale at Henry Austen's in 
London, goes to Liverpool Mu- 
seum, British Gallery, Ken- 
sington Gardens, her London 
purchases, 150-151 ; overhears 
comment upon herself of " Mr. 
W. K.," 152 ; recasts "Elinor 



INDEX. 



271 



and Marianne," and revises 
'' Pride and Prejudice," specu- 
lations concerning "Self-Con- 
trol," 153 ; later opinion of 
" Self-Control," returns to Chaw- 
ton from London, describes the 
Chawton garden, dislike of thun- 
derstorms, 154-155 ; possible pic- 
ture of, in the Chawton garden, 
does not wish it known that she 
writes. 156 ; begins " Mansfield 
Park," 157 ; corrects proof of 
" Pride and Prejudice," 158; 
honest pride in her work, read- 
ing aloud of " Pride and Preju- 
dice," at Chawton when first 
published, 159-160; never di- 
gresses in her novels. 160 ; reads 
completed MS. of " Mansfield 
Park " to Henry, 161 ; reads 
and enjoys " Pasley's Military 
Police, etc.," drives to London, 
admires views at Guildford and 
Esher, 163 ; tries to discover a 
likeness to Elizabeth Rennet in 
portraits in the picture galleries, 
164; her characters real people 
to her, 165 ; visits Henry in 
London in September, 1813, 
attends theatre there, 166 : fond- 
ness for Crabbe's poetry, 167 ; 
visits Godmersham, 168 ; es- 
teem for Mrs. Hamilton's writ- 
ings. 171 ; anxiety about Henry's 
health, 172 ; goes to London in 
February, 1814, 173 ; attends 
opera in London, 174; is much 
in the society of her niece Fanny 
in 1814, suffers much from face- 
ache in later life, 176; journeys 
usually short, time of trip to Scot- 
land unknown, 178 ; advice to 
her niece Anna in regard to the 
latter's novel, 179-182 ; describes 
only localities with which she is 
familiar, 180; visits Henry in 
London in November, 1814, 182 ; 
devoted attendance upon Henry 
during his illness, its effect upon 



her health, 184-185; visits Carl- 
ton House by invitation of the 
Prince Regent ; correspondence 
with J. S. Clarke, 187-192 ; de- 
clines to sketch clergyman on 
lines suggested by Mr. Clarke, 
190 ; declines to write a histori- 
cal romance on House of Saxe- 
Cobourg, corrects proofs of 
"Emma," revises "Mansfield 
Park" for second edition, 192; 
returns to Chawton from Lon- 
don, allusion to " Catherine," 
first reference to "Persuasion," 
193 ; " Persuasion " thought 
nearly ready for the press, 194 ; 
complains of ill-health, pecuni- 
ary losses, visits in Berkshire, 
revises " Persuasion," 195 ; tem- 
porary depression of spirits, rides 
in donkey-carriage, 196 ; recov- 
ers her spirits, playful letter to 
her nephew, first ending of 
" Persuasion," 197 ; concludes 
"Persuasion" a second time, 
failing health, 198 ; thought for 
her mother's comfort, health 
improves somewhat, 199; visits 
Steventon for the last time, 
walks to Alton, easily wearied. 

200 ; dislike of evangelical school, 

201 ; opinion of Henry Austen's 
sermons, suggests their being in- 
serted in her novels, describes 
her own work, praises her 
nephew's writing, 201-202 : 
writes Miss Bigg about Henry's 
preaching, reads Southey's 
"Poet's Pilgrimage," 203; ar- 
ranges " Persuasion " for the 
press, begins a new novel, 
strength fails, 204 ; ceases writ- 
ing, nature of her unfinished 
work, 205 ; serious nature of 
her illness recognized by the 
Austens, 206; receives visitors 
in sick-room, goes to Winches- 
ter for treatment, 207 ; lodges 
with Cassandra at Mrs. David's, 



272 



INDEX. 



208 ; writes to her nephew from 
Winchester, 209-210 ; improve- 
ment in health but tempo- 
rary, continues to lose strength, 
212 ; grateful for friends' care of 
her, recognizes her condition, 
213; fancies death near, bids 
adieu to friends, a pause in the 
disease, death, 214; death oc- 
curs on Sunday, Cassandra's ac- 
count of her sister's last moments, 
215-218; funeral ceremonies, in- 
scription on gravestone, place in 
the cathedral, 218-220; sympa- 
thy with Cassandra in the latter's 
early sorrow, 225; attachment to 
Martha Lloyd, 227; personal 
description of, by her nephew, 
229 ; fond of music, music of 
hers now at Chawton House, 
230; knowledge of history, lik- 
ing for Charles I. and Mary 
Stuart, reads Addison, Steele? 
and Richardson, 231 ; style 
very unlike Johnson's, esteems 
Cowper, enjoys Scott's verse, de- 
tects authorship of" Waverley," 

232 ; fondness for games, adored 
by children, tells fairy tales, 

233 ; autobiographic touches in 
Catherine Morland, 234-235 ; 
resemblance to her own Eliza- 
beth Bennet, 236 ; traits in 
Charles and Francis Austen 
probably reproduced by her in 
William Price, 237 ; knowledge 
of the clergy, her ideas of cleri- 
cal duties not in advance of 
her day, dislike of cant, her 
ideals for clergymen, 238-241 ; 
her love of scenery, 242 ; mere 
descriptions of scenery subordi- 
nate to the theme, 243 ; single 
exception to this rule in descrip- 
tion of Lyme, 244 ; accuracy of 
her descriptions of Lyme and 
Up-Lyme, liking for autumn, 
245-246; strong belief in frater- 
nal affection, 247 ; good-natured 



irony and satire, 248-251 ; fond- 
ness for novel reading, her con- 
viction of the importance of fic- 
tion, 252-253; her consideration 
for others, he»- latest thought 
represented in " Persuasion," 
254 ; her own deepest convic- 
tions expressed by Anne Elliot, 
no equal within her range, 255 ; 
her conception of the love of 
men and women, 256 ; reads 
" Pride and Prejudice " aloud to 
Cassandra and her niece Anna, 
257 ; her room at Steventon de- 
scribed by Anna Austen, 258. 
Austen-Leigh, Augustus, grand- 
nephew to Jane : present Pro- 
vost of King's College, 121. 
Austen-Leigh, Reverend James 
Edward, nephew to Jane : sug- 
gestion concerning the terrace at 
Steventon, 20-21 ; opinion of his 
father's parlor dramas, 26 ; con- 
jectures that his father directed 
Jane's studies, 27; estimate 
of Jane's early unpublished 
sketches, 37; estimate of her 
unpublished burlesque tales, 40- 
41 ; mentions date of writing 
" Northanger Abbey," 56; ob- 
servation concerning the wear- 
ing of caps by the Austen sisters, 
60 ; remarks concerning the Aus- 
tens' removal from Steventon, 
78 ; error in memoir regarding 
Sydney Terrace, 84 ; gives " The 
Watsons" its title, 86; estimate 
of " The Watsons," 87-88 ; no 
mention in memoir of Jane's 
visits to other places than Lyme 
in the autumn of 1814, 92 ; re- 
cords death of Rev. Geo. Aus- 
ten, 94 ; quotes Jane's letter of 
April 8, 1805, in memoir, 97; re- 
cords removal of the Austens to 
Southampton, 106 ; describes the 
Austen garden at Southampton, 
108 ; describes the Lansdowne 
equipage, no ; called " Little 



INDEX. 



273 



Edward " by Jane, a favorite 
nephew with Jane, inherits estate 
of Scarlets, takes the name of 
Leigh, publishes memoir of Jane, 
death mentioned, mention of his 
son, A. A. Leigh, appearance at 
sixty, i2i ; mentions Jane's daily 
piano practice at Chawton, 136 ; 
describes Chawton Cottage, 145 ; 
visits Chawton often in boyhood, 
146 ; describes his aunt's manner 
of writing, 156-157 ; asserts that 
his sister Anna's novel was never 
published, 182 ; comment on 
Mr. Clarke's literary sugges- 
tions, 191 ; does not mention 
" Catherine " in his memoir, 
193 ; possibly wiser to have pub- 
lished " Catherine" than " Lady 
Susan," 194; last year at Win- 
chester College, playful letter to, 
from Jane, 197; writes fiction, 
201 ; Jane's estimate of his writ- 
ing, 202 ; describes handwriting 
of Jane's last MS., 204 ; men- 
tions physican's opinion of Jane's 
condition, 207 ; last letter to, 
from Jane, 209-211 ; estimate of 
Jane's character, 214; mention 
of, in Cassandra's letter, note 
concerning, 218 ; present at 
Jane's funeral, places brass me- 
morial of Jane in cathedral, de- 
scribes the family affection for 
Jane, 221 ; son of James Austen 
by the latter's second wife, takes 
name of Leigh, 222 ; age at time 
of his aunt's death, description 
of her in his memoir of her, 229 , 
mentions Jane's singing, 230. 



Barsetshire, a real county to its 
creator, Trollope, 165. 

Basingstoke, Hants : position in re- 
lation to Steventon, 16. 

Bath, Somerset : Anstey the pro- 
phet of, 33 ; Pump Room, celeb- 
rities to be seen at, 34-35 ; 



Laura Chapel a pious resort of 
fashion, 34; probable date of 
Jane's second visit to, third visit, 
66 ; Queen Square, described, 
position of No. 13, 67-68; Brock 
Street, Queen's Parade, men- 
tioned by Jane in a letter, 68 ; 
Sydney Gardens, gala nights at, 
69-70 ; few striking changes in, 
during the last century, 70-71 ; 
Camden Crescent, formerly called 
Camden Road, 71 ; Westgate 
Buildings, description of, 80; 
Laura Place, location of, Mr. 
Austen's liking for, 81-82 ; Gay 
Street, location of, 81 ; removal 
of the Austens from Sydney 
Place to, 96-97 ; Chapel Row, 
Mrs. Austen's preference for 
house in, 81 ; Oxford Buildings, 
dislike of the Austens for, 81 ; 
Trim Street, unpleasant reputa- 
tion of, 82 ; Sydney Gardens, 
Jane's liking for, 83 ; Paragon, 
view from, 83 ; New King Street, 
mention of, 84; Sydney Place, 
removal of the Austens to, loca- 
tion of, 84; Sydney Terrace, not 
in existence in Jane's time, 84 ; 
Beechen Cliff, doubtless much 
visited by the Austen sisters, 85 ; 
view of, mentioned, 97 ; Jane's 
close knowledge of, during resi- 
dence there, 86 ; Seymour Street, 
location of, 83 ; St. Swithin's 
Church, memorial tablets in, ob- 
servations of the verger, 94, 
parish register of, 95 ; Green 
Park Buildings, removal of the 
Austens to, from Gay Street, de- 
scription of, 97. 
Brabourne, Edward, Lord, 
grandnephew of Jane : introduc- 
tion to his aunt Jane's cor- 
respondence mentioned, 94, 96, 
106; remarks concerning re- 
moval from Steventon, 78 ; com- 
ment on Jane's spelling, 104 ; 
publishes Jane's letters, fairy 

8 



274 



INDEX. 



tales of, 12 1 ; suggests reasons 
for removal to Chawton, describes 
his mother's care of her father's 
family, 127-128 ; remarks con- 
cerning his uncle Geo. Knight, 
131 ; his description of Chawton 
Cottage in 1884 mentioned, 146 ; 
fancy of, concerning his aunt 
Jane, 156; well-known to litera- 
ture, 228 ; skill as a writer of fairy 
tales, 233. 

Brighton, Sussex : foreshadowed 
in Southampton, 107. 

Brunton, Mrs. : motif of her 
"Self-Control," 153. 

Brvdges, Sir Egerton: a visitor 
at Ashe, mentions Jane in his 
autobiography, 24. 

Bull, a Bath publisher : buys 
MS. of " Northanger Abbey," 
and neglects to publish, 98. 

Burney, Sarah Harriet : Jane's 
unfavorable criticism of her 
" Clarentine," 116. 



Cadell, publisher : is offered MS. 
of "Pride and Prejudice," 54; 
probable cause of his rejection 
of MS., 55 ; possible later re- 
flections concerning his action, 

5 6 " 
Canterbury, Kent : description of 

its neighborhood, Jane's familiar 

acquaintance with it, 102-103. 

Charlecombe, Somerset : present 
appearance of, 72. 

Charmouth, Dorset: location of, 
90; lovely situation, 245. 

Chartham, Kent ; view from the 
downs of, 103. 

Chawton, Hants: description of 
cottage, present condition of, 
Mrs. Maiden's statement con- 
cerning, 145-147 ; cottage garden 
described by Jane, present ap- 
pearance of, 154-155 *> vicinity of, 
possibly described in " Mansfield 
Park," 161-162 ; frequent inter- 



course between cottage and great 
house in the Austens' time, 176 ; 
path across "The Pasture" 
much used by Jane, 176 ; death 
of Mrs. Geo. Austen at, 222; 
churchyard, graves of Cassandra 
and her mother, Chawton 
Church, 223 ; Chawton House, 
Jane's music in, drawing-room 
in, 230. 

" Catherine " : referred to by Jana 
as her own work, 193 ; nothing 
definite known about it, 194. 

Chilham, Kent : park and castle 
frequently visited by the Austens, 
103 ; the Bretons of the Castle, 
170. 

Clarke, J. L., librarian of Prince 
Regent : calls upon Jane, 186 ; 
correspondence with, suggests 
impossible subjects as foundation 
for future tales by Jane, 187-192. 

Cooper, Epward and Susan. 
cousins of Jane : frequent visits 
of, at Steventon, 25. 

Cooper, Dr., uncle of Jane : re- 
sides at Bath, 32. 

Cowper : held in high esteem by 
Jane, 32. 

Crabbe, George: his verse much 
admired by Jane, 166 ; narrow 
range of his sympathies, 167. 



David, Mrs. : her house in Win- 
chester described, the Austen 
sisters take lodgings there, death 
of, 208; Austen lodgings at, 
213. 

D'Arblay, Madame: popularity 
of her writing in her youth, 
12 ; tablet to, in St. Swithin's 
Church, Bath, 94 ; her novel, 
"The Wanderer," a dull tale, 
171. 

Dawlish, Devon: position of, 
Jane's acquaintance with, 93. 

Deal, Kent : prospective ball at, 
104 ; ball given up, 105. 



INDEX. 



2 75 



Deane, Hants : road to from Ste- 
venton, 16 ; living of, presented to 
George Austen, 19 ; birthplace 
of James, Edward, and Henry 
Austen, 20. 

Dean of Winchester, the : accom- 
panies author to the house where 
Jane died, 211-212. 

Digweed, family of: the former 
occupants of Steventon Manor, 
21 ; intercourse with the Austens, 
24. 

Devonshire : Jane's knowledge of, 
92 ; allusions to scenery of, in 
" Sense and Sensibility," 242. 



Eastwell Park, Kent : frequently 
visited by the Austens, 103. 

" Elinor and Marianne " : probable 
date of writing, 41 ; revision and 
change of title to " Sense and 
Sensibility," 54. 

" Emma " : suggested scene of, 
162 ; advertised appearance, 185 ; 
dedication to the Prince Regent, 
187 ; copy ordered sent to the 
Prince Regent, 189 ; last proofs 
read, 192. 



Feuillade, Countess de, cousin 
of Jane : her husband guillo- 
tined, lives at Steventon, marries 
Henry Austen, 25 ; knowledge 
of French, is active in private 
theatricals, 26. 



Gabell, Dr. : head master of 
Winchester College in 1817, 10 ; 
garden seen from Jane's lodg- 
ings, 209. 

George the Fourth. See Prince 
Regent. 

Godmersham, Kent : first visit of 
Jane to, estate given to Edward 
Austen, 57 ; St. Lawrence's 
Church, 103. 



Grant, Mrs., of Laggan : works 

mentioned, 116-117. 
Guildford, Surrey : Jane admires 

views at, 163. 



Hamilton, Miss Elizabeth : 
works admired, now little read, 
171. 

Hancock, Mrs. : aunt to Jane, 
mention of, 19 ; mother of Coun- 
tess de Feuillade, 25. 

Hastings, George, son of War- 
ren Hastings : in care of the 
Austen family, 19 ; death of, 20. 

Hastings, Warren : places his 
son in care of the Austen family, 
19. 

Heathcote, Sir Wm. : sees Jane 
act in private theatricals, 26. 

Henley-on-Thames, Oxfordshire : 
early home of Mrs. Geo. Austen, 
19. 



Itchen, the : water party on, 130 ; 
present appearance at Southamp- 
ton contrasted with past, 131 ; at 
Winchester, 208. 



Kebbel, T. R. : suggestions re- 
garding localities in " Mansfield 
Park" and " Emma," 161-162. 

Kintbury, Berks: position in rela- 
tion to Steventon, 42. 

Knatchbull, Lady Fanny, niece 
to Jane : at fifteen, 120 ; tribute 
to her of her son, Lord Bra- 
bourne, 128 ; pleasure taken in 
her aunt's writing, 142 ; cau- 
tioned by Cassandra not to men- 
tion authorship of " Sense and 
Sensibility," 157; visits Chawton 
House in 1812, described by her 
sister Marianne, 158; compa- 
nion to her aunts, 158; much in 
Jane.'s company in 1814, 176 ; 
questions about " Catherine " 



276 



INDEX. 



answered by Jane, 193 ; writes in 
her diary of Jane's hopeless ill- 
ness, 212 ; letter to from her 
father announcing Jane's death, 
letter to from Cassandra, 215- 
218; second letter to from Cas- 
sandra after Jane's death, 224. 

Knight, Edward. See Austen, 
Edward. 

Knight, Edward (2d), nephew 
to Jane : loss of his mother, 
Jane's sympathy for, her enter- 
tainment of, 219-13 r ; wife of, the 
companion of Cassandra Austen, 
147 ; at Oxford, 168 

Knight, Fanny. See Knatckbull, 
Lady. 

Knight, George, nephew of 
Jane ; his aunt's opinion of him 
as a boy, resemblance to Henry 
Austen, 129-130 ; ' Lord Bra- 
bourne's remarks upon, 131-132 ; 
goes to Oxford, 168. 

Knight, Marianne, niece to 
Jane : describes her sister, Lady 
Knatchbull, 158. 

Knight, Montagu G., grand- 
nephew of Jane : present owner- 
ship of Chawton mentioned, 146 ; 
accompanies the author to Chaw- 
ton Cottage, 147. 

Knight, William, nephew of 
Jane : Jane's game of battledore 
with, 101 ; takes living of Steven- 
ton when old enough, 202 ; suc- 
ceeds Henry Austen, at Steven- 
ton, death, 226. 



La Croix, Mr. : owner of house 
where Jane died, skill as pastry- 
cook well-known to Wykeham- 
ists, 211. 

Lansdowne, Marquis of : South- 
ampton residence described, no. 

" Lady Susan " : probable date of, 
41-42. 

Lefroy, Mrs. Anna Austen, 
niece to Jane : attempts at fic- 



tion, her aunt Jane's suggestions 
concerning, 179-182 ; marries 
Benjamin Lefroy, 181 ; her novel 
never published, 182 ; removes 
to Wyards, 183 ; visits her aunt 
Jane in the latter's last illness, 
206-207; marriage mentioned, 
222 ; informed by Jane of author- 
ship of " Waverley," 232; de- 
scribes Steventon in her girlhood, 
257-258. 

Lefroy, Benjamin, son of Jane's 
friend : marries daughter of 
James Austen, 25, 181 ; moves 
to Wyards near Alton, 183. 

Lefroy, Mrs., of Ashe: friend of 
Jane, sister to Sir Egerton 
Brydges, 24 ; death of, 100. 

Lefroy, Tom (Chief- Justice of Ire- 
land) : described by Jane, 43 ; his 
admiration of Tom Jones, 45 ; 
at ninety still remembers Jane, 
47- 

Lefroy, Reverend Edward 
Cracroft, grandnephew of 
Jane : mentioned, 228. 

Leigh, Cassandra. See Austen, 
Mrs. Cassandra. 

Leigh, Thomas : maternal grand- 
father of Jane, 19. 

Leigh, Theophilus : great-uncle 
of Jane, 19. 

Lenox, Charlotte : her " Fe- 
male Quixote " admired by Jane, 
116. 

Lloyd, Martha: playful allusion 
to, by Jane, 73 ; lives at Ibthorp 
in 1800, 77 ; lives with the 
Austens at Southampton, 113 ; 
left in charge of the Chawton 
household, t 72 ; marries Francis 
Austen, Jane's attachment to 
her, 227. 

Lyford, Mr. : his medical skill, 
slight hopes for Jane's recovery, 
207 ; playful allusion to, in one of 
Jane's letters, 209. 

Lyme-Regis, Dorset : picturesque 
position of, 88-89 '» former rank 



INDEX. 



277 



as a watering-place, the George 
Inn, landing of Duke of Mon- 
mouth, 90; Cobb, the, descrip- 
tion of, account of its rebuilding, 
upper and lower levels, Louisa 
Musgrove's fall from, 91 ; Ten- 
nyson at Lyme, 92 ; description 
of, quoted from " Persuasion," 
244 : character of principal street, 
St. Michael's Church, 245. 



Mant, Reverend Dr. : rector of 
All Saints', Southampton, 124 ; 
observations on the Litany re- 
ferred to, 129. 

<; Mansfield Park " : vicinity of 
Chawton possibly described in 
certain places, 161 ; first pub- 
lished, 176; description of scen- 
ery quoted from, 243 ; Jane's 
estimate of fraternal affection 
quoted from, 247. 

Micheldever, Hants: nearest sta- 
tion to Steventon on the south, 16. 

More, Mrs. Hannah : her 
"Coelebs" remarked upon, 137- 
138- 

Moore, Sir John : death of, men- 
tioned by Jane, 139. 

Morgan, Lady : novels read by 
Jane, 137. 



Netley, Hants: distance from, to 
Southampton, 130 

Newman, Dr. Harding: be- 
queaths portrait of Jane to Rev. 
J. M. Rice, 33. 

North Waltham, Hants : road to, 
from Steventon, 17. 

" Northanger Abbey": when be- 
gun, when finished, 56 ; knowl- 
edge of Bath customs shown in, 
67; MS. of, sold for 10 pounds, 
98: man's notice of woman's 
dress quoted from, 249 ; remarks 
on novels quoted from, 252- 
253- 



Overton, Hants: railway station 
nearest Steventon on the North, 
16. 

Paslev, Captain : his " Essay 
on the Military Police " admired 
by Jane, 162. 

"Persuasion": first reference to, 
193 ; thought nearly ready by 
Jane, 194 ; revision of, 195 ; first 
ending written, dissatisfaction 
with, 197; second ending 
written, 198 ; arranges for the 
press, 204 ; scenery of Lyme 
quoted from, 244 : description of 
autumn quoted from, 246 ; Lady 
Rivers' entrance to Bath quoted, 
251 ; Jane's estimate of love of 
men and women quoted from, 
256 

Peach, R E,. : remarks concern- 
ing Sydney Terrace, 84 ; views 
regarding Austen lodgings on 
Gay Street, 96-97. 

Perrot, Leigh, uncle of Jane : 
residence at Bath, 32 ; his gift to 
James Austen, 134. 

Piozzi., Mrs. : personal appear- 
ance when at Bath, 34. 

Pinney, Devon : mention of, 90 ; 
landslips at, 245. 

" Pride and Prejudice " : first title 
of, closing pages written, 53 ; re- 
vised, 153 ; proofs corrected, 158; 
first reading of, when published, 
159; Jane's favorite characters 
in, 161 ; reaches second edition, 
171; read aloud by Jane when 
first written, to Cassandra and her 
niece Anna, 257. 

Prince Regent, The : admires 
Jane's works, 186; permits de- 
dication of " Emma " to him- 
self, 187. 

Portsmouth, Hants : nearness to 
Southampton an advantage to 
the Austens. 108 ; death of Cas- 
sandra Austen at, 223 ; home of 
Francis Austen, his death at, 227. 



2 7 8 



INDEX. 



Radcliffe, Mrs. Ann: popularity 
of, in lifetime, 12. 

Rice, Rev. J. M., grandnephew 
of Jane : present owner of Jane's 
portrait, 32. 

Richardson: known by Jane al- 
most by heart, 231. 

Rowling, Kent : home of Edward 
Austen for a time, 49. 



Scott, Sir Walter : his poetry 
enjoyed by Jane, 232. 

Sandling Park, Kent : visited by 
Jane's brothers, the house then 
much admired, 119. 

Steventon, Hants : no railway sta- 
tion at, position, modern rectory, 
site of former rectory, view from , 
St. Nicholas Church, modern 
manor, old manor, appearance 
in 18th century, 16-18 ; living 
presented to Geo. Austen, 19 ; 
gardens in Jane's childhood, the 
" Wood Walk," 20-21 ; parish re- 
gister, handwriting of Geo. Aus- 
ten, dates of birth of Jane and 
Cassandra, 22 ; Austen children 
put out to nurse, young life at 
rectory, 23 ; visits of the Cooper 
cousins, the Countess de Feuil- 
lade, private theatricals, 26-27 ; 
Francis Austen born at, 28 ; in- 
significance of, 55 ; living re- 
signed by Geo. Austen, 78 ; 
James Austen rector of, 134 ; 
death of James Austen at, tablet 
in church to him, 221 ; tomb of 
James Austen in churchyard, 
222 ; Henry Austen succeeds 
James as rector, living held by 
William Knight, 226 ; rectory 
described by Anna Austen Le- 
froy, 257-258. 
"Sense and Sensibility": new 
title of " Elinor and Marianne," 
54 ; short time spent in recasting, 
56; in press, 153; when pub- 
lished, 1.57; authorship known to 



the Prince Regent, 186 ; Somer- 
setshire scenery described in, 
242. 

Somersetshire : scenery alluded to 
in " Sense and Sensibility," 242. 

Stour, the, Kent: scenery in its 
neighborhood, 102-103. 

Southampton, Hants : early his- 
tory as a watering-place, first 
steamer plies at, docks estab- 
lished, 106-107; Austen garden 
described by Mr. Austen-Leigh 
and Jane, 108 ; Castle Square, 
locality and present condition, 
city wall, 109-111 ; the Test, 
views from Castle Square, 112 ; 
Castle Lane, locality of, 109 ; 
Jane's acquaintances in, 115 ; 
All Saints' Church, description 
of, St. Michael's Church men- 
tioned, 124 ; Northam, suburb 
visited by Jane, the Itchen 
Ferry, 131 ; Woolston, a suburb 
of, 13 1 ; theatre at, 132 ; ball at, 
133 ; Austens leave Southamp- 
ton, 144. 



" The Watsons " : probable date 
of, worthy of more attention, 
Mr. Austen-Leigh's remarks on, 
86-87 ; Jane's confidence with 
Cassandra concerning, 88. 

Trollope, Anthony : inheritor of 
Jane's realism, Barsetshire a real 
county to him, 165. 

Up-Hurstborne, Hants : location 
of, 83. 

Up-Lyme, Devon : mention of, 90 ; 
present appearance, concise de- 
scription of, in "Persuasion," 
246. 



Winchester, Hants: High Street 
clock, Guildhall chimes, cathe- 
dral clock, 9 ; Cathedral Close, 
walls of, 101 gates of, 208 ; Col- 
lege, bells of, Commoners' en. 



INDEX. 



279 



trance, 10 ; College Street, men- 
tion of, 10; description of, 
208; Kingsgate Street men- 
tioned, 10, 208, 219; the Itchen, 
mention of, 10; Wolvesey Castle, 
mention of, 10; St. Giles' Hill 
mentioned, 10 ; Jane's death 
at, 12 ; position in relation to 
Steventon, 16; St. Swithin's 
Church, locality of, 208 ; St. 
Swithin's Street mentioned, 212, 



219; St. Cross bedesmen men- 
tioned, 220. 
Wye, Kent : location of, 103. 



York, Duchess of: her retinue oi 
dogs, 34. 



Zoffani : paints portrait of Jane, 
32. 



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